Dreaming Of You
by 5H3RL0CK3D
Summary: Molly Hooper is a fifteen year old schoolgirl, with a massive crush on the quiet, mysterious boy in her physics class, Sherlock Holmes. But Sherlock doesn't seem to have emotions; after all, caring isn't an advantage- in his opinion. Can Molly get the boy of her dreams or will the stunningly beautiful troublemaker, Irene Adler get in the way? Rated T to be safe. Teen!lock Sherlolly
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone. I'm Lauren and this is my first every fanfiction.  
I've made my chapters quite short, but I'm going to try and update every day, if not more often- I don't have much to do over the summer.  
I would REALLY appreciate if it if you could review it to tell me how I can improve it, or just to let me know if you liked it or not.

Here is my first chapter, hope you like it! :)

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Molly Hooper wasn't exactly a social butterfly.  
The pretty girl with the dark brown hair and blue eyes took her usual seat in the middle of the classroom- close enough to the front to be noticed by the teacher, but close enough to the back to be involved in all the usual gossip. Her and her redhead friend (named Kate; she was in Molly's English Literature class) were- as usual- in the centre of attention. Molly watched her from her seat in the far right corner of the classroom, wishing she had that kind of charm and confidence.

She was practically invisible to most of her classmates- she chose to be that way. Partly because she thought she wasn't anything like them, partly because she wanted to focus on her studies and avoid that type of crowd.

Having only just turned fifteen, she was one of the youngest in her year. It was her seventeenth day at her new school, and she was trying to keep a low profile. But she couldn't help but envy the girl in the middle of the room.

The teacher managed to get the class's attention and took the register, before beginning to speak.

The lesson was quite boring. Planets and stars had never really interested Molly, so instead of taking notes, she half-listened, half-daydreamed. A tall, slim boy sitting at the other side of the room caught her attention. She couldn't help but notice how handsome he was, with his pale blue eyes, dark, curly hair and cheekbones.

He didn't seem to smile much. He was serious, like Molly, and was obviously intelligent, judging by the way he was one of the few people who raised his hand to answer questions. But he never smiled, or looked the least bit interested. He didn't even seem to be listening half the time; he spent most of the lesson looking around the room and at his classmates.

Molly didn't mean to stare, but there was something about the boy that intrigued her.

Before she knew it, the lesson was over. She gathered up her books and headed out of the classroom. She saw the boy walking away. Without even thinking, she deliberately walked straight into him and pretended to drop her books.

She bent down to pick them up, shocked at what she had done- it was extremely unlike her.

The boy stood and watched her for a while, before realising he was supposed to help her up; that was what people normally did when they knocked someone over- even if it wasn't his fault. He handed her all her books and pretended to apologise, even though he knew it wasn't his fault, and Molly was aware of this.

"Sorry." he said quietly.

Embarrassed, Molly smiled awkwardly.

"No, it's my fault." she said, "But thank you for..."

Her voice trailed off as she tried to stop herself from blushing.

"I'm Molly. Molly Hooper." She said, and held out her hand.

"Sherlock Holmes." the boy said quietly.

From up close, she could see that he had green flecks in his eyes. But before she could embarrass herself even more, she quickly walked away. She didn't notice Kate and the brown haired girl watching them.

Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock. She repeated his name over and over in her mind as she tried to get to sleep that night. Was this what love at first sight felt like?

Of course it isn't, she told herself, I'm just over reacting. After all, she barely knew him. And Molly Hooper doesn't just fall in love, she told herself. But that didn't stop her from dreaming about those pale blue eyes...

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Thank you for reading. :) I'll update as soon as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for the feedback so far. It means a lot to think somebody somewhere in the world enjoyed it and is looking forward to it. :)

Well, here is the second chapter. I'm kind of new to this site- it took me about fifteen minutes to figure out how to update a story...

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After making her way through the crowded canteen, Molly sat down at the usual table with her friends- if you could call them that. She didn't really know anyone at school well enough to call a friend, but the girls who sat at her lunch table were more serious and sensible than most of her classmates. None of the girls said a word to her as she sat down; they were all occupied, minding their own business, as usual.

She automatically looked around the canteen for Sherlock; she had developed a habit of doing so ever since they met. He was sitting three tables down from her.  
Today, she had decided, was the day she would build up the courage to speak to him again. She had rehearsed what she would say a thousand times in front of the mirror.

It had been a whole week, but she assumed he still remembered her name.

She tried to stay calm and confident as she made her way to his table.

"Hi." she said, a little quietly, but he heard her, "I'm-"

"Molly Hooper." Sherlock interrupted, "I know. You told me last week, after you bumped- I mean I bumped into you."

All of a sudden, Molly forgot everything she had rehearsed and started blushing again.

"Um, did we have any physics homework?" she asked, talking a bit too quickly.

"No." Sherlock said and sighed, "I would have thought you'd be more organised."

"I'm sorry?" Molly asked.

"I mean, after all, you're hoping to get into some sort of medicine school."

"How do you-"

"And you're doing it because your father's passed away and it's what he'd have wanted for you anyway."

"How did you know?" Molly asked.

"I didn't know. I noticed." Sherlock said, "Just like I noticed that you have two cats, have lost your watch, had baked beans for breakfast and that you fell out of bed this morning."

Molly didn't know what to say.

"How do you-"

"I pay attention."

Sherlock turned back towards his meal.

"Well, I'll see you..." Molly began but she knew he wasn't listening. Once again, her attempt at conversation with him had resulted in her embarrassment.

This time, however, she did notice the brown haired girl from her physics class watching her.

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Sorry if its a bit short- I've written it as long as I felt it needed to be. I didn't want to add more just for the sake of it. I have written quite a bit of it on my laptop and I'll update soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi! This is chapter 3. I've really enjoyed writing this story. :) Thank you so much for the reviews!

No Molly or Sherlock in this chapter- it's all about Irene and what goes on in her mind. Enjoy!

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"You don't seriously think she's a threat, do you?" Kate asked, as they walked home from school, "I mean, she seems a bit of a loser."

"I don't know." Irene said, "He's not like all the other boys. He doesn't think the same way. After all, not everyone can be won over by a pretty face. He's more complicated than that."

"But you're Irene Adler." Kate replied.

Irene smiled.

"It might be a bit of a challenge though." she said, "What do you think of him?"

"Pretty hot, I guess." Kate said truthfully, "And smart. But I don't see why you're so determined to-"

She didn't mention it to Kate, but somehow she felt differently about Sherlock. She had never gotten this attached to any boy before, not even out of her long chain of boyfriends. Maybe it was because he was harder to get; she had always been able to charm anyone and everyone, no matter what age or gender. But he was different. He was one of her kind.

"It's just for fun. It's what I do, mess around with them. But I'm bored of all the ordinary boys." she explained.

The two girls reached Irene's house and let themselves in. Irene's parents were divorced, so she lived with her mother, who was rarely home. It was very useful for hosting parties and having boys over. She never told her about it- of course. Even someone as laid back as her mother wouldn't react well to the kind of things Irene did when she was home alone.

Kate was quite pretty, compared to most girls, but not quite on the same level as Irene. She was also fairly simple-minded, which made her an excellent best friend/sidekick. She was loyal and trustworthy. She was a troublemaker, like Irene, making her fun to be around.  
The two of them were well known around their school for messing with boys, but she was never quite good enough to get in Irene's way. In her opinion, Kate was useful to have around; after all, everyone needs a sidekick who will stay loyal to you forever. And she liked having control over her.

"So, what next?" Kate asked.

Irene wasn't sure. She'd been trying to make conversation with Sherlock all week, but he never seemed the least bit interested in her. Her usual tricks wouldn't work on him. It wasn't going to be easy, but she was Irene Adler, after all- she knew she'd manage it.

"I don't know." she said, "I'll think of something, I suppose, but first, let's make sure the bookworm girl doesn't get in our way."

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Again, sorry it's short but I have the next chapter ready and I'll update it soon. :D


	4. Chapter 4

Here is chapter four.

Not that much happens in this chapter but I've finished chapter five and I'll definitely upload it first thing tomorrow.

xxxxx

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All week, Molly had been going through the conversation in her mind, trying to think of what she could have said instead. She was still mad at herself for not following her plan.

Chemistry was another class Molly shared with Sherlock, as well as the brown haired girl (who- she now knew- was named Irene). Molly tried her best to concentrate throughout the lesson, but she was so lost in thought it was nearly impossible. Sherlock, on the other hand, seemed focused and alert.

The teacher gave them each a worksheet of chemical equations to figure out.

Molly noticed that the girl- Irene- kept turning around to glance at Sherlock and whispering to her friend, Kate. Molly felt a pang of jealousy, knowing by now that Irene, being the most beautiful girl in the whole school had that manipulative power over almost everyone, something Molly could only dream of having. She realised Kate had caught her staring, and quickly looked away.

By the time the lesson was over, she hadn't even started on her worksheet and decided to catch up on her work at lunchtime. The teacher dismissed the class and went off to look in a chemical supply cupboard. But before Molly could leave, Irene and Kate blocked the exit. The room was empty except for the three girls standing at the doorway.

"What do you want?" Molly asked, her voice shaking.

"Oh, nothing." Irene said, smirking, "I just wanted to give you a friendly warning."

She put a hand on Molly's shoulder, almost treating her like a child.

"What is there between you and the Holmes boy?" Irene asked.

"Nothing." Molly said, truthfully, "I barely know him."

"Well keep it that way." Kate whispered, stepping a little closer. "A girl like you doesn't belong with a boy like him."

"I don't-" Molly began.

"Oh shut up." Irene interrupted, "I'm not an idiot. I saw the way you were looking at him in class."

"And Irene Adler always gets what she wants." Kate added, getting a little too close for comfort.

"Let's go." Irene ordered Kate, and with that, they left, smiling.

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Well that's it for now. I've really enjoyed writing so far. :)

It's a bit short but next chapter will be slightly longer. 


	5. Chapter 5

Here is chapter five.  
I had to delete it for a while to fix some errors I just noticed- but here it is again!

Thank you to everyone for reading this, and I really appreciate the reviews- I cant't believe I've had 600+ views and visitors from only four chapters!  
I have added some more detailed descriptions of some of the characters in this chapter.  
Writing this has really eased my withdrawal symptoms...

Enjoy!

xxxxx

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Molly dragged herself out of bed two hours earlier than usual. She had cried herself to sleep the night before, shaken up about what Irene had said to her. But she had made her decision. She was tired of being a wallflower. She was going to try and talk to Sherlock again. But if she wanted to have a chance against Irene, she needed to change. A lot.  
She knew well enough (from all the books she had read) that everybody likes pretty girls.

Irene was possibly the prettiest girl Molly had ever seen. She had pale, clear skin that never seemed to have any spots or blemishes. She had a few freckles on her cheeks, but they were barely noticeable. Her dark brown hair was long and silky, making it look like it was out of a television advert. She wore contact lenses that made her eyes a blue-ish green that nobody could ever decide which colour it was. She had long, skinny legs and a flat stomach- what ever girl wanted. She wore hardly any makeup but still managed to look perfect.

Even Irene's friend Kate was almost flawless. She too was skinny, and had the same, clear skin. She always wore blue eyeshadow, which complemented her dark green eyes, as well as dark red lipstick. Her hair was cut just above her shoulders, except for a few shorter strands. It was a cross between strawberry blonde and red, and grew darker towards the top.

Molly, on the other hand, was nowhere near as beautiful. She was a bit short for her age, and she her body hadn't fully finished changing. Her hair had once been dark blonde, but now she classified it as light brown, but it was tangly and never looked smooth and soft no matter what conditioner she used. Her skin was very pale, and never seemed to tan, and it also suffered from mild acne every now and again.

Molly snuck into the bathroom and opened the cupboard. On the top shelf was all of her mother's beauty products. Technically she wasn't allowed to touch them, but she wanted to be noticed.

She'd never really cared about her appearance much- she had always accepted that not everybody was a supermodel- but she didn't want it to hold her back anymore. Most of all, she wanted to feel pretty and confident.

She had written a note to her mother saying she was leaving for school early; she didn't want her mother catching her wearing makeup.

It took her longer than it should have; it was the first time she'd ever used any of these products and she wanted to be careful not to mess it up. She left the house feeling significantly more confident and pleased with herself.

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I was planning on uploading both chapter 5 and 6 together but it wasn't really working so I'll upload chapter 6 later. It's all about Sherlock Holmes.


	6. Chapter 6

Here is chapter 6! Thankyou to everyone who's read/reviewed/followed/favourited (actually I don't think favourited is a word- made this a favourite is what I meant). Enjoy! :D

xxxxx

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What was the point, Sherlock thought to himself, in learning about planets he'd never go to and people who no longer existed? Even though he was only sixteen, he knew exactly what he wanted to do when he grew up. Solving problems was the only thing that helped him in his endless battle against boredom. School life was a waste of time, he thought.

First of all, he considered himself way ahead intelligence-wise, meaning that he rarely learnt anything new. Second of all, most of what they taught children in school was useless, in his opinion. Maths was useful. So was science, except for astronomy. History, art, English, music and drama were all useless in real life. Languages were useful, however.

Everything else, he'd have to teach himself, he had realised years ago. But for now, he just had to get through the next three years without his brain rotting.

Sherlock left the classroom and headed straight for the boy's bathroom, to avoid bumping into Irene and Kate. They had been following him around a lot the past week and it was beginning to annoy him; he didn't want anything to do with her, or anyone else on that matter. Because caring wasn't an advantage, and he didn't need friends. He figured he was better off on his own. There was no denying that Irene was a very attractive girl. But Sherlock Holmes didn't have emotions. He liked it think he was beyond that.

After making sure she was nowhere to be seen, he made his way to the canteen, where he chose the least crowded table and settled down to think. Unfortunately, he was interrupted when someone walked up to his table and sat down opposite him. He didn't look up (he didn't have to- he knew exactly who it was), hoping she would take a hint and leave. But she didn't.

"Hi." Molly said, "Do you mind if I join you?"

Sherlock turned away from his notebook and looked at her. She looked different. She was wearing mascara and lipstick. She'd also done something different with her hair. He considered pointing it out but decided against it.

"I suppose you can." he muttered.

Molly smiled nervously. "So, we didn't have any history homework, did we?"

Sherlock sighed.

"How should I know? I'm not in your class." he pointed out, "Please don't feel you have to make conversation, Molly."

Was he being rude? He wasn't sure.

"Sorry." she said, "I forgot. I just thought I'd ask you because... you seem to be an organised person."

Sherlock didn't say anything. Couldn't she see that he just wanted to be left alone? Molly glanced over at his notebook.

"So... you're interested in bees?"

"Oh, it's nothing." he closed the notebook quickly, "I was just bored."

"So is that what you've been doing in class? Drawing bees?"

"Astronomy is useless. There's no point in paying attention." he said.

"I don't like physics much either." Molly agreed, "I prefer biology. I'm hoping to become a doctor."

Maybe she wasn't that bad, after all, Sherlock thought. She seemed much more serious than most girls her own age.

"I'm hoping to work with the police." he told her.

"Like a detective?" Molly asked, "Well I suppose you're smart enough to. You notice things."

Sherlock didn't reply. Molly suddenly remembered what she was planning on saying to Sherlock.

"Remember how the other day you knew that my dad had died and I had two cats and lost my watch and fell out of bed and ate baked beans..." Molly began, "How did you know?"

Sherlock smiled. If there was one thing he liked, it was showing off.

"Your rucksack has Allan Hooper written on it. It looks quite old, maybe twenty, thirty years old. So obviously it's your father's. Yet it only has one pocket and it's quite small- very inconvenient for a schoolgirl. You wouldn't go out of your way to wear it unless, well, he was dead. As for the cats, you had some black and ginger hairs on your skirt. You had a tan line where your watch should have been, and a girl like you wouldn't just forget your watch, so it's clearly been stolen. You had bruises on the left side of your face and were walking with a slight limp, as well as absent-mindedly cradling your left arm. And the baked beans, well, you had a stain on your shirt." he explained.

Molly stared at him in amazement.

"Oh come on, it wasn't that hard. It was fairly obvious. I just looked, and took an educated guess." Sherlock said.

The bell rang and students started making their way out of the canteen.

"See you later." Molly said, and left.

Maybe she wasn't that bad, after all.

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If there's anything I can do to improve it or anything else you guys would like to see further on in the story feel free to let me know.


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter is a bit short- I have serious writer's block at the moment. Hope it's ok, though.

xxxxx

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Molly had been avoiding Irene all this time, but when she bumped into Kate in the girls' bathroom, there was no escape.

Kate strategically stood in between Molly and the door, making sure nobody could get in or out.

"Looks like you didn't listen to our friendly warning, did you?" she said, teasingly.

"Sherlock and I are friends." Molly said, definitively, emphasising the word 'friend'.

As if she could call it that, though. She'd been talking to him almost every day for about two weeks, every day growing more confident and getting to know him slightly better. But he was distant and independent. Although she knew he respected her, he clearly did not consider her as a 'friend'. Because Sherlock Holmes didn't have 'friends'.

"Just back off." Kate said, fiercely.

"Leave me alone." Molly moaned, "I can talk to who I want."

"Not if you're getting in Irene's way."

"I'm telling you, we're friends." Molly said, braver than she felt.

"You'll regret it." Kate muttered, and walked away.

Relieved, Molly made her way to the canteen and looked around for Sherlock. At least, when she was around him, there was nothing Irene could do to her.

"Hi." she said, as she sat down.

"Hi." Sherlock replied.

That's an improvement, thought Molly; he usually never greeted her back. She glanced around the canteen and caught Irene's eye, making a mental note to avoid her on her way to class.

She looked over at his notebook, but it was blank.

"What's on your mind?" she asked kindly. By now, she knew him well enough to know that something was wrong; he was usually busy sketching bees or scribbling furiously in some sort of secret code. But today, he was sitting there, staring into space. He clearly had something on his mind.

Sherlock looked at Molly.

"Nothing." he said, even though he knew she wouldn't believe it, "I don't know. It's just, my parents are..."

He didn't finish his sentence.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

Molly smiled sympathetically. She knew he often struggled when it came to expressing emotions.

Maybe that made her special. She was the only one who he ever spoke to. Or maybe she was just over exaggerating, as usual. She wanted to believe that there was some sort or relationship between them. But it seemed like the somewhat friendly lunch-time conversation was as far as they'd ever go.

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Thank your support. I'm not going to beg for reviews, because that's not what I'm writing this for.

Next chapter focuses on Kate and how she feels about everything.


	8. Chapter 8

Here is chapter 8. :) and it's all about Kate. That rhymes. lol

anyway, enjoy!

xxxxx

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The first term of the school year was almost over, and now that Kate thought about it, she hadn't really done much actual schoolwork. As much as hanging out with Irene and flirting with the sixth form boys every afternoon was fun, the end of the year was growing closer and closer. She was actually beginning to wonder if she should take her education seriously or not.

Of course, Irene didn't have to. She was going to leave school, find some billionaire and make him fall in love with her. Irene knew exactly what she wanted to do later on: misbehave. Work her way up the ladder and manipulate powerful people. But Kate was nowhere near as smart. And she didn't quite have the same manipulating power as Irene.

She knew that one day, school life would be over and Irene would leave her behind- she had made it very obvious that their friendship was only temporary. And yet, Kate could never bring herself to tell Irene she'd had enough. She was being used. But she never did anything about it, because part of her loved the ridiculous fun she always had around Irene. Maybe she just wanted excitement in her life.

Irene furiously slammed the door behind her as they entered Kate's bedroom. She was having difficulty controlling her temper.

"Irene," Kate began.

"Shut up." she said, coldly.

"No, listen to me." Kate yelled at her, "You're getting too attached to him. You told me that you don't get attached. But you are now. You said it was just for fun. You said it was a game."

"And this is called losing." Irene muttered under her breath, "I considered it a challenge. And I'm failing. If some... pathetic loser of a girl can-"

"You said he's different." Kate said, "You can't expect your usual tricks to work on him if he's not ordinary. He's like you. You don't get attached. So why should he?"

"But I'm not ordinary, either. I'm Irene Adler. So he should be- I shouldn't be failing."

Kate rolled her eyes. Irene and her extremely high self esteem. One day, she'd realise that she wasn't invincible. One day she'd grow old and less beautiful, and she'd lose most of what she had going for her.

"Ok." Irene admitted, "So I am falling for him. But that's because he's... one of my kind. But if, like you say, he's doesn't get attached, how come he asked her-"

"Because he is serious about school and therefore doesn't have much respect for you." Kate tried to explain, "And so is she. It's called friendship, Irene. When you have things in common with someone else. And she's the only one he ever talks to, so it's natural that he'd ask her to be his partner for the physics project."

It was actually quite funny, in Kate's opinion. The minute the teacher asked the students to get themselves into pairs, both Irene and Molly (who had taken to sitting two seats down from Sherlock) practically jumped in their seats and turned to look at Sherlock. Aware of this, Sherlock had quickly looked at Molly and nodded at her. Judging by the look on her face, you'd have thought he'd proposed to her.

Irene's temper had held out, but only until they reached the bathroom, where she had kicked the bin over and started throwing bits of tissue at the mirror. Kate had tried to explain to her that maybe she'd been scaring Sherlock off by stalking and flirting at him all the time, but she didn't want to hear it.

"Why can't I ever get what I want?" Irene asked, angrily, as she sat down on the bed.

"You always get exactly what you want." Kate snapped.

Irene threw a book at her.

"Let's go down to the park. You told the boys you'd be there. And it'll cheer you up."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because another book sailed past her, just missing her face. Irene only wanted to think about Sherlock.

Kate sighed angrily and left the room. She'd had enough of Irene's temper tantrums, which always seemed to put Kate in a bad mood. Seeing as it was her house, she couldn't exactly go home, but then she couldn't exactly kick Irene out, either. So instead, she went to the park on her own, determined not to let Irene ruin her day.

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Thanks for reviewing and reading and following. :) next chapter is from sherlock's POV.


	9. Chapter 9

Here is chapter 9. I've been looking forward to writing this chapter. Thank you for reviewing. I can't believe so many people have read this. :)

enjoy!

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Sherlock was in a good mood as he and Molly walked home from school. Firstly, he was relieved that he wouldn't have to work with Irene for the school project, and secondly, because he now knew that Molly thought of him as a 'friend'. They'd been working on their project for three days in the library at school, but today, Sherlock had asked Molly if she'd like to work on it at his house- so that they could use some of his father's books on forces and gravity. And Molly had called her mother and told her she was going home with her 'friend' Sherlock.

Friend. Friend. Friend. Sherlock repeated the name in his mind a million times. He'd never had a friend before. He has always thought the regular lunch-time conversations were just polite small talk. It made him smile to think that somebody in the world cared about him- other than Irene Adler, of course.

Molly seemed to be in a good mood as well.

Once they reached the house, his older brother Mycroft let them in. He gave them a strange look; neither of the Holmes boys had never brought home a friend from school let alone a girl. Molly smiled awkwardly.

"Who is this?" Mycroft asked.

"Molly Hooper." Molly said, shyly.

Mycroft followed them into the living room.

"Go away." Sherlock snapped, "I mean, please go away."

Mycroft sighed. "Sherlock, I'm warning you, father's not going to like this..."

"Well you're not going to tell him, are you?" Sherlock said.

"I won't. But mummy- I mean mum- might." Mycroft said.

"Can you go now?" Sherlock asked.

"Fine."

Mycroft left, and Sherlock and Molly got started straight away.

"I thought you hated physics." Molly commented.

"I hate astronomy. But the rest is ok. Look at forces, for example, they tell you everything. If you've got a bloodstain, you can tell where it came from, whether a vein or artery was cut, how hard the victim was struck and more just by looking at the shape, because of gravity and-"

Sherlock stopped when he realised Molly looked a bit surprised.

"Is that what you're going to do, then?" she asked, "I mean, later on. Analyse crime scenes and stuff."

"I hope so." Sherlock said, "Mycroft- my brother, I mean, the one who let us in. Well, he thinks it's stupid and that I should be a doctor or a philosopher or something more... sensible. He's going to be a politician- well that's what he says."

One thing was for sure, the minute he finished school, Sherlock was going to leave home. He'd never have so see either of his parents ever again. But he didn't tell Molly that.

They worked silently for another ten minutes.

Friend. The word sounded so strange, yet comforting. Sherlock had a friend. A friend. He smiled to himself. He felt strange, something he'd never felt before. Maybe he and Mycroft had been wrong all this time. Maybe it was ok to care about people.

Sherlock's parents were going through a divorce. His father had severe drinking problems and a quick, temper. His mother was never there for the two boys, not even when their father took his anger out on them. And as for Mycroft, he clearly didn't care much for his younger brother. Maybe that was why Sherlock had ended up the way he was. He didn't know how to care for anyone.

But now, there he was, alone with Molly, the one person in the world he'd ever had any sort of feeling for. All those years of solitude caught up with him. He'd never felt so alone. He'd never felt like he needed anyone before.

He moved a little closer, so that their side of his hand was touching hers, but only just. She didn't move away, and neither did he. He didn't look at her, but out of the corner of his eye he could see her smiling.

"Sherlock, are you ok?" Molly asked.

She wasn't smiling any more. She looked concerned.

"I'm fine." he said, "Its just, I've never had a, friend, before."

The word friend didn't sound right. He felt like it was more than that. All those weeks, when she had come to talk to him, every day. Molly was the only one that really cared about him. She was the only one that counted.

"Sherlock," Molly began, and took his hand, "I know what it's like to feel alone. I understand. You can tell me anything."

He was shaking a bit. So was she.

Don't tell her, he told himself, it will only end in a heartbreak.

"It's hard to explain." he said.

He hated himself for feeling the way he felt, but he couldn't help it.

For the first time ever, he noticed how pretty Molly was, with her hair down and her beautiful blue eyes looking into his.

He moved in closer. He knew he was going to regret it after, but he couldn't fight his feelings any more.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

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:')

I'm ending this chapter on a cliff-hanger. Well not really- I think you can all easily guess what's just happened.


	10. Chapter 10

Glad you all enjoyed the last chapter. Thanks for the reviews. :)

Here is chapter 10.

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Molly's heart was racing. It only lasted a few seconds but it felt a lot longer. A thousand different emotions were conflicting in her mind. Disbelief. She found herself wondering if it had even happened or not. Shock. She'd never been kissed before. Happiness. He was, after all, the boy she'd been crushing on for months. Pride. She, Molly Hooper, had succeeded. She had just been kissed by Sherlock Holmes. Amusement at the thought of how Irene might react if she found out. Sadness. Things would never be the same between them.

She was still shaking when Sherlock seemed to have snapped out of his own shock.

"I'm sorry." he stammered, "I don't know why I..."

He didn't seem to be able to believe what he'd just done.

"Sherlock..." Molly began, still shaking, "There's something you should know."

"You don't have to say anything." Sherlock said, and reached out to comfort her, "I'm sorry."

He held her in his arms and they sat there, in silence for a while. Molly lost track of the minutes; all she knew was that she loved Sherlock and he

had just kissed her and that he was having emotions. And she knew how much he must have been struggling.

She felt what could only be a teardrop land on her shoulder, and wished she could do something to make him feel better, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

The next thing Molly knew, Mycroft was shouting Sherlock's name. They broke apart at the very last minute before Mycroft entered the living room. He eyed them suspiciously.

"Father's home." he said, "You two had better get out of here before he-

"Since when do you look out for me?" Sherlock interrupted, coldly.

"Well, if you put him in a bad mood, he'll take his anger out on all of us." Mycroft added, "He's in the dining room, but I reckon if you can get out of the back door if you hurry."

As soon as Mycroft was out of sight, Sherlock took Molly's hand and led her to the kitchen, where he unlocked the back door.

"I'd walk you home, but my father would probably ask questions." Sherlock said.

It was the nicest thing he'd ever said to her.

"That's ok." Molly said, and smiled at him.

"Molly, I'm sorry if I ever acted like you didn't mean anything to me. Because you do." Sherlock said, and she could tell he was having difficulty putting his emotions into words.

"It's ok." she whispered.

For a minute she hoped he might kiss her again, but they were interrupted by a loud, booming voice, causing Sherlock to slam the door quickly. Molly was left standing outside, a little disappointed but still in a strangely pleasant state of shock.

* * *

Sorry if it's short. I have writer's block right now, I might now update again for a while. I had the story all planned out until this point and I'm not really sure where to go white it any more, so any suggestions would be appreciated.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you for the website and the suggestions. They helped a lot.

I now know what's going to happen over the next few chapters. :)

I wrote this on my iPhone on the bus. Enjoy!

* * *

Molly made her way down the corridor to the canteen. She didn't really know what to expect anymore. She'd never had a boyfriend before, so she wasn't sure what to do next. The shock and happiness from the night before had now worn off, and she was beginning to feel a little nervous. Just because they kissed, that didn't mean they were now a couple. And if they didn't become a couple, they couldn't just go back to the way they were before. Things would never be the same again.

She wasn't even sure if she should go and sit with him at lunch.

She wanted to talk to him, and sort things out, but she couldn't gather up the courage to do it.

Deep inside, she knew it could never happen. It had seemed so real the night before, but Sherlock wasn't any ordinary boy. And his father didn't seem like he would approve.

Molly ended up aimlessly wondering around the canteen trying to look busy. She caught sight of Sherlock, who was sitting by the water dispensers, watching her suspiciously. She made her way to his table.

"Why are you acting so strange?" Sherlock asked.

He had a habit, Molly had noticed, of saying exactly what was on his mind, without even stopping to think if it was a good thing to ask. But then, she couldn't blame him, she knew he didn't really understand emotions.

"Oh. I get it." Sherlock said, even though she doubted he did.

"Sherlock, we need to talk." Molly mumbled, "But not here." she added when she caught sight of Irene.

They walked down the corridor and up the stairs in silence until they found an empty supplies cupboard next to the art room. They locked themselves in, and waited a while to make sure nobody had followed them.

Molly didn't really know what to say.

"I've been thinking a lot, about last night." she began.

"So have I." Sherlock said, "Does this mean I'm your... boyfriend... now?"

Molly cringed at his awkward question. He was clearly confused about the whole boyfriend-girlfriend concept.

"If you want to be." she said.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked, looking even more confused than before.

"You don't have to." Molly tried to explain, "What happened last night... doesn't necessarily mean we're... a couple."

"Oh." Sherlock said, looking half relieved, half disappointed- she couldn't tell, "That doesn't mean we can't, though, does it?"

Molly looked at him. "Of course it doesn't."

There was an awkward silence. Part of her was dying to ask that one question. But she wanted him to ask. If he cared enough, he would.

"It's ok to have emotions." Molly said, "I don't know what goes on at home between you and your brother and your father but I'm not like them. I care."

Sherlock didn't say anything. He was deep in thought. He took Molly's hand and looked at her.

"Molly, why did you stay?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I was horrible. I ignored you and acted like I didn't care but you still came to talk to me every day. I thought maybe you were just outgoing and friendly but you never talked to anyone else. Only me. Why?"

"Because I care." Molly said, "The only reason I started wearing makeup was because I wanted you to like me."

"But why would you want me to like you? Why me? There are billions of people in the world."

He looked like he was about to cry.

"Sherlock, you're not just anyone." Molly said, "You're different."

Why was it so difficult to say those three, simple words she wanted to say?

"I don't know what to do anymore." Sherlock admitted, "My brother says that you shouldn't trust anyone, and that caring always leads to heartbreaks but I can't stop thinking about what happened last night. It felt so... right."

Molly was trying hard not to blush.

"We wouldn't have to tell anyone." Molly said, "We could keep it a secret."

"Do you... want... to...?" he asked.

"Yes."

They hugged and sat there for a while. Molly's heart was racing again. Had he really just asked her? Once again she found herself wondering if it had actually happened or not.

Sherlock didn't look sad any more. He looked slightly confused.

"Um, Molly," he began, "I've never had a girlfriend before. I'm not really sure what... What do girlfriends and boyfriends actually do?"

Molly wasn't exactly sure either. To her the word 'boyfriend' had usually been more of a name, or title, a state of relationship. She had read books about them but didn't really know what you actually did once you had one.

"Talk a lot, I guess." she said.

"But we already used to talk a lot."

What Molly did know, however, was that you definitely didn't have these kind of conversations. But then Sherlock wasn't any ordinary boy. He always asked awkward questions.

"And go out together." Molly added, "Do stuff like go to the cinema or have dinner."

"I've never been to the cinema. I don't really like movies." Sherlock admitted, "And we always have dinner as a family."

He was making it a lot more difficult than it should have been, even though he didn't realise it.

"Well, what do you like to do?" Molly asked, "Or we could always just work on our project. It's due in three days."

"Good idea. But not at my house, this time."

* * *

Thank you for reading. I'll hopefully be able to update tomorrow, if not the day after. Next chapter will probably be from Irene's POV.

I'm thinking of maybe including some other Sherlock characters in later chapters, like John or Mrs Hudson or maybe Anderson. Let me know if you think it's a good idea.

Can't wait for Series 3! :)


	12. Chapter 12

I've just realised that my (now not so original) fanfiction title dreaming of you is actually the name of a song by a band called The Choral. And it's also the title of a Harry Potter fanfiction and a Twilight fanfiction. But at this stage it's too late to change it so it doesn't matter that much.

This chapter focuses on mainly Irene and Kate.

* * *

Kate smiled cheekily. Irene knew it was no use. She wouldn't give in.

They hadn't spoken for over a week. And now Kate knew something that she knew Irene would want to know and now she was going to torture her over it.

The reason they had fallen out was quite stupid- in Irene's opinion. All these years she'd taken it for granted that Kate would stick around and do what she said. Kate had never minded the way their friendship worked. But now, all of a sudden, she was starting to stand up for herself, and Irene didn't like it at all.

The thing that triggered the argument happened at the park, when, as usual, Irene and Kate were hanging out with the sixth form boys at the local high school. Irene accidentally- well, voluntarily, but she hadn't told Kate that- told one of the boys about how Kate's brother was in rehab.

True, maybe she had pushed it a bit too far; she knew all too well that Kate's brother was a sore subject for her. And true, maybe she did deserve the shouting at she got when they left the park. But apparently Kate had temper problems as well, and the incident had set her off completely, causing her to remember every single thing Irene had done wrong.

But Irene had never liked being shouted at, so she told Kate that she was naturally the way she was and that if Kate wasn't going to accept it, it was her problem.

Then Irene had said that Kate would be nothing without her and that she was being ungrateful.

At this point, both girls had lost it, and Irene decided to make her dramatic and walk away before Kate could do the same to her. Only she had expected Kate to follow her and tell her she was sorry for not appreciating her. But she didn't.

Kate had been avoiding her all week, and although, deep inside, she wanted her back, Irene certainly wasn't going to be the one to apologise. It wasn't her fault, after all. Kate was just being unreasonable.

But now, the tables had turned completely and Irene found herself in a difficult position. She didn't like it at all.

"Please." Irene asked, wincing as she said the word. She was used to being in control, not the other way round.

Kate shook her head, with that same annoying expression of satisfaction on her face. She was winning, and she knew it.

"Please," Irene repeated, wincing again, "Tell me what you heard."

"No."

She knew exactly what Kate wanted, but she wasn't ready to accept defeat.

"It's about Sherlock, isn't it?" Irene demanded, "What is it?"

It had to be important or Kate wouldn't have been looking so pleased with herself.

It was probably about Sherlock, she deduced. Was it that Molly girl? Was it even good news?

It didn't matter. The point was that she needed to know.

"What will it take for you to tell me?" she asked.

"You already know." Kate said.

She didn't have to mean it, if she said it, did she? But no. Saying those two words would mean giving in. Accepting defeat. And she wasn't weak.

"Please!" she moaned.

She almost sounded like she was begging. Begging! Imagine that.

Irene Adler, notorious for blackmailing, manipulating and getting her way, was in a position where she had to do something she didn't want to do.

Nobody would know about it, she thought to herself. But that's not what counted. She was almost considering doing what Kate wanted for a minute. If she did say she was sorry, not only would she get to hear Kate's secret, but she'd also get her best friend back. And if getting her way meant hearing the secret, then maybe it wouldn't mean she'd been defeated.

No, no, no. She didn't need Kate. She didn't need anyone. She didn't have 'best friends'.

And most likely, the secret was about Sherlock. If she was so attached to him that she would do anything to know what Kate had heard, then that was also a sign of weakness.

"Fine then." Irene snapped, "I don't want to know."

She was lying. She did want to know, more than anything. And wouldn't it also be considered weak if she didn't get her way and hear the secret?

Besides, there was also her challenge. The one she'd set months ago, to win Sherlock Holmes' heart. She didn't want to fail at that, either.

Now that she thought about it, she had promised herself she would be the first to apologise. But in a way, Kate had already apologised, by telling her about the secret. If she was still mad, she wouldn't have done it.

And anyway, she was still mad at Kate, so by saying sorry she'd be lying. Lying to get her way, and that definitely wasn't weak.

She'd made up her mind. She was in a difficult situation, and either way, she'd end up giving in. She just had to do whatever had the best outcome.

"I'm sorry." she mumbled, only

just loud enough for Kate to hear.

Kate smiled. She clearly thought she'd won. Or maybe she had, but Irene wasn't about to admit it.

It turned out Irene would have preferred not to know, after all.

Her screams of frustration could be heard from the other side of the school.

* * *

Thanks for reading and reviewing. Next chapter is about Sherlock and Molly. :)

I'd really like to include John or Anderson but I'm not really sure how.


	13. Chapter 13

I'm in France at the moment. I'm writing this at cafe with free wifi right now. It turns out the hotel I'm staying at does not have free wifi and my parents don't want to pay.

I'm won't get home until Monday, so until then I won't be able to update much.

This is chapter 13, and it's from Sherlock's point of view. Thank you for your continued support. Enjoy!

xxxxxxxxxxxx

* * *

Sherlock smiled politely at Molly's mother, who showed him to the living room, clearly delighted to see that her daughter had made a friend.

He looked around the room, taking in all the information and making his deductions, like he always did, but surprisingly, the room didn't seem to tell much about Molly's family, other than that they had cats, were keen readers and were tidy, organised people.

Sherlock had barely slept at all, the night before, so overwhelmed with the thought of having... emotions.

He couldn't stop thinking about Molly. He'd never been so attached to anyone before. He didn't really know how to feel about it.

He sat there, alone, in the living room until Molly came rushing down the staircase wearing a pretty blue dress. She looked amazing. He wanted to say something but he couldn't find the right words; he wasn't used to complimenting people.

He had actually been quite nervous about this moment, seeing as Molly was now officially his girlfriend (the word still didn't sound quite right to him). But to his relief, it all came almost naturally. He pulled her into a quick hug and they made their way upstairs to Molly's bedroom.

She seemed to be happy to see him.

"What would you like to do?" she asked, forgetting that they had planned to work on their project, but Sherlock didn't point it out.

"What is there to do?" he asked, instead.

"We could go to the park..." Molly suggested.

"Ok." Sherlock agreed, pleased that they wouldn't be working on their science project; he knew he would find it impossible to concentrate.

After letting Molly's mother know they were leaving, they walked down the road to the park, hand in hand.

They didn't have enough money between them for ice cream, so instead they bought two cokes and sat down on the grass in the shade of a tree.

Was this what real dates were like? Sherlock wondered.

He looked at Molly.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

"It's been ages since I last went to a park." he admitted, "We're not really the kind of family who does stuff together."

"Sherlock, why are you so afraid of your father?" Molly asked, "You and your brother were so careful not to let him see me at your house."

"He's an alcoholic." Sherlock said sadly, "With a quick temper."

Molly smiled sympathetically.

"I don't see my dad much." she said.

Sherlock tried to change the subject but he couldn't think of what to say.

He noticed Molly was shaking little, so he shuffled a bit closer to her and after a few seconds of hesitation, put his arm around her shoulders. It felt so strangely comfortable and natural. Molly wasn't shaking anymore. She smiled at him.

"Molly," he whispered, struggling to say what he wanted to tell her.

He moved closer, so that their faces were almost touching, only centimetres apart. Sometimes silence was more comforting than a conversation.

If the first time they kissed had felt good, it was nothing compared to this.

Sherlock hadn't ever smiled so much before.

They spent the rest of the afternoon walking barefoot around the lake, talking. Why was it so easy? he wondered to himself. How could something natural and simple, but so awkward and strange at the same time.

He was still overwhelmed with all those emotions. He had always liked to think he was different, and beyond all that. But now, he was having to question everything he'd ever known.

But he was happy. All he really knew was that he loved Molly and she loved him. And that was all that really counted.

But he still couldn't bring himself to say those three words he wanted to tell her.

"I'll see you at school." he said to her when he dropped her off at her house.

"We forgot to work on the project." Molly pointed out, but they both knew it wasn't true.

"I guess we'll just have to meet up again tomorrow." Sherlock said, and smiled. She smiled back at him.

Just when he was about to say it, he felt a ball in his throat and his head started to hurt.

"See you tomorrow." he said, and quickly kissed her on the cheek before heading down the road.

One day he'd tell her. One day.

* * *

Sorry if it's a bit short.

And in case you think it's going to be a happy ending, it's not. Irene's not just going to leave them alone. :P

Unfortunately I don't know when I'll be able to upload the next chapter.

Thanks for reading! :) :) :)


	14. Chapter 14

Here is the next chapter. I think this story is doing really well, considering not that many people ship Sherlolly. Thank you to everyone for reviewing. It means so much to me. Like I said, Irene is not just going to leave them alone. This chapter is set about a month after the previous chapter.

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

The minute she heard the lock click, Molly knew she'd made a mistake. She hadn't questioned Sherlock's handwritten note in her locker until now. She hadn't even bothered checking she wasn't being followed when she made her way to the cupboard next to the history room. But now she knew exactly what was going on.

Somebody had forged the note. It was somebody who knew that her and Sherlock liked to use the supply cupboards as a private place to talk. She tried to open the door, even though she knew it was no use.

Somebody wanted her out of the way. But who?

Deep inside, she knew who it was. And she knew why. She was beginning to feel a pit inside her stomach. Her heart was beating with dread.

Maybe it wasn't Irene. Maybe the note actually was from Sherlock, but he had forgotten to show up. Maybe a teacher had locked the door, not knowing she was inside.

But deep inside, she knew it wasn't true. However, either way, she needed to get out of the cupboard.

Molly banged on the door, but the corridor outside was deserted.

Frustrated, she sat down, leaning against the door with her head in her hands.

What if they never left her out? Maybe the teacher wouldn't notice she was missing. Maybe the school day would end and she'd be left inside!

"Hello?" Molly shouted, banging on the door, but there was nobody to be seen, "HELP!"

What would Sherlock do in her situation? she wondered.

He would probably try to pick the lock. She looked around for a paperclip or a pin, but she couldn't find one. She tried with her hair clip, but no matter how much she twisted and turned it in the lock, it wasn't working. It was useless.

Molly sat down again, trying to remain calm. She was determined not to panic or cry, but she was struggling.

She sat there for a while, but it wasn't long before she cracked.

"HEEEEELLLLLLLPPPPPPP!" she screamed, banging a book against the door.

She was about to give up when she heard footsteps. They sped up, meaning that whoever it was had heard her and was coming to let her out. She heard a knock on the door.

"Hello?" said a voice that didn't sound much like a teacher, "Is there anyone in there?"

"Yes." Molly replied, "Somebody locked me in."

The boy outside tried the handle.

"Should I get a teacher?"

"I'd rather not." Molly said, "I'd get into trouble. I don't think I'm really allowed in here."

"Okay, then, I'm going to kick the door down. Stand back." the boy ordered.

The cupboard was small enough as it was, so she really had to squeeze against the way to stay out of the way of the door. It came down with such a force that it could have been heard from the moon. Molly's foot had been sticking out a few centimetres too far, causing the falling door to hit the corner of her toe. She winced in pain and fell over.

The boy helped her up.

He had pale blonde hair with grey-blue eyes that looked sad even though he was smiling politely. He wasn't much taller than she was. He had the kind of face that always reminded you of someone else.

He held out his hand.

"I'm John. John Watson." he said, quietly.

"I'm Molly Hooper." Molly said, "Thank you for..."

"It's ok." John said, "I won't tell anyone."

"What about the door?" Molly asked, "Wouldn't this count as vandalism?"

"Let's just leave it there." John said, "There's nothing we can do about it now- it's broken beyond repair."

Molly thanked him again and took off in the direction of the stairs, but her foot hurt so much that she had to limp.

"Do you need help getting down the stairs?" John asked, "I can take you to the nurse's office if you want."

What Molly really wanted was to look around for Sherlock but she was starting to see that with her foot, it wouldn't be possible.

Molly nodded her head and John half-supported, half-carried her down the stairs; she could hardly stand on her right foot without wincing in pain.

When they reached the bottom, they made their way through the languages department in the direction of the nurse's office. But on their way, they bumped into Irene and Kate, who were both laughing their heads off. Kate caught sight of Molly and shot her a strange look, confirming Molly's worst suspicions.

It had been them. Kate had locked her in the cupboard.

Irene looked at her and smiled cheekily.

"He's in there." she said, pointing at the supplies cupboard next to the Spanish room, "That is, if you still want to see him."

Molly was shaking, now. She let go of John and practically sprinted the last few metres- well, as fast as she could, considering she had a potentially broken toe.

The timing couldn't have been worse. She reached the cupboard just as Sherlock decided to open the door, and it her square in the face. That was the second time in a day she'd been hit by a door.

She almost fell over, but managed to keep her balance this time. She looked at Sherlock.

He was shaking as well. There was a confused, shocked expression on his face. He didn't say anything, he just looked at the ground, taking deep, steady breaths.

"Sherlock," she began, "What happened?"

He didn't reply. He wasn't even looking at her.

Tears were already streaming down her face. She felt a ball in her throat. It was all starting to make sense now.

"Molly," he said, "I didn't mean to-"

"I HATE YOU!" she shouted, and kicked him hard in the shin, although because of her foot it probably caused her more pain than it did him.

That was when she smelt it. He smelt of lavender. He smelt of Irene.

Molly took off. She was crying uncontrollably and her forehead was bleeding. She ran past John to the nearest girls' bathrooms.

She sat on the floor, crying, until the bell rang, but even them she couldn't bring herself to get up and go to class.

She couldn't believe he had done it. They had only been dating for a month just over a month, but she had loved him from the first day they met.

She didn't even feel angry anymore, she just felt distraught. It hurt to think that she wasn't good enough to deserve his full attention.

Didn't he care about her? If he did he would never have given in to Irene.

Why did Irene always get her way? Molly had thought she'd given up on trying to make Sherlock like her, but apparently not.

She had changed for him. And all he did was break her heart.

* * *

There. I've been waiting a long time to be able to upload this.

As you can see, I have introduced John in the story.

I'm going to try to finish the story in the next week and a half, because school is starting soon (for the UK anyway) and I won't have much time- and I'm sure you guys won't have much time either.

Next chapter is from Irene's POV, half an hour earlier; you guys probably want to know what exactly happened and how Irene managed to do it.

Thank you for reading! :)


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you for all the reviews last chapter.

I was going to upload this yesterday but then someone went and turned off the wifi.

This is from Irene's POV.

* * *

The look on Sherlock's face was priceless; mixture of shock, disgust and confusion- exactly the reaction she'd been hoping for.

The lock clicked from the outside and Irene heard the unmistakeable sound of Kate's quiet footsteps, walking away.

Sherlock too had fallen for their 'note in the locker' trick. It was almost too easy, and yet, he was supposed to be smart.

The thought made him slightly less desirable but she didn't care. She was so close to succeeding her mission. The challenge she had set herself the day she met him.

Irene, wearing nothing but her underpants and a blouse (with the top four buttons undone) casually leant against the wall, waiting for him to calm down.

Sherlock looked at the ground. In the dim light of the lamp on the shelf, she could just make out the pink in his cheeks. He was blushing.

Irene smiled.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded the second he came to his senses, "Why are you doing this?"

Irene didn't say anything. Just standing there was enough. She couldn't help but notice how he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her.

Maybe this wasn't going to be as difficult as she had expected. After all, he was a teenage boy. And if, somehow, he had managed to get attached to a loser of a girl like Molly Hooper, she would definitely succeed in getting her way.

Irene had spent hours getting ready that morning, making sure she looked perfect. She had been waiting a long time to do it- a whole month. Partly because she wanted to be ready for it, and partly because she wanted to cause Molly Hooper as much pain as possible. Everyone knows that the longer you're together, the closer you are, and the more it hurts when it's over. She had grown to hate Molly. And now was her chance to get revenge.

Sherlock met her eyes for the first time since he'd seen her.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Irene shook her head and smiled again.

"I'll report you." he said.

"Sure you will." Irene muttered.

Maybe she was going a bit too far, locking him in a cupboard with her. But that was what she did. Messed around with people. Manipulated them. Put them in difficult situations.

"What do you want?" Sherlock demanded again.

Irene was enjoying watching him try not to stare at her chest.

Of course it was going to work. She just had to take it slowly.

"I just wanted to talk to you." she whispered, moving a little closer.

Sherlock stepped back until he was flat against the wall.

"Leave me alone." Sherlock said, "I'm not interested. I already have Mol-"

He stopped in mid-sentence before realising she couldn't care less that he already had a girlfriend.

Irene reached out and touch his face, and he winced as if he was in pain. He clearly wasn't used to being touched there.

But he didn't brush her off. He wasn't even putting up a fight any more.

Irene shuffled a bit closer to him. She was close enough to feel him breathing, slow and steady.

"I know you want to." she whispered.

Her face was just inches from his. She knew she was getting too close for comfort. She knew he was feeling overwhelmed.

She felt around for his hand and closed her fingers round his wrist. She could feel his heartbeat, getting faster and faster. Looking up into his eyes, she could see it all in his face. He was struggling not to give in to the temptation.

"I won't tell anybody." she whispered.

She wasn't going to force him. She wanted him to do it at his own will. She could have drugged him, threatened him or blackmailed him, but she didn't. If, by the time break ended, he still showed no sign of giving in, she'd accept it, and try again another time.

But now, he was so close to breaking.

"Sherlock, I know you want to. I know you do. Nobody will ever know."

She ran her fingers through his hair, and he winced again. But she could see that he liked it. He was still clutching onto her hand, a million thoughts probably whizzing around his mind.

That was when Irene knew she'd succeeded. Sherlock couldn't seem to fight it anymore. He closed his eyes as his lips met hers.

Was it wrong that it felt so good to her? Maybe Kate was right; she was getting attached. Obsessed.

No. She was just playing the game.

But it was more than that.

For the first time in her life she understood how it felt to need someone.

When they broke away, Sherlock didn't look like he was feeling guilty anymore. He just looked confused and lost in thought.

By the time they were finished, Irene didn't feel the satisfaction she had expected to feel.

She felt almost... lonely. All her life had always been one big game. One big lie. And now that she'd succeeded her little 'mission', she would have to pretend to move on from him, but she knew it wasn't possible.

Irene unlocked the door and opened it.

Sherlock was still sitting cross-legged on the floor, with a shocked expression on his face.

She still felt empty. But she wasn't about to tell Kate that, so she faked a smile and tried to act normal.

* * *

Poor Molly. :'(

I've already written most of chapter 15 (or is it 16- I'm not really sure).

I'm really glad so many of you are reading this. Thank you so much. :)


	16. Chapter 16

Thank you for reviewing. It means a lot. :)

In response to crooney83's question, you can interpret it anyway you want. I didn't really want to go into detail. Just know that it's serious enough for it to hurt Molly a lot.

Here is chapter 16, from Sherlock's POV.

Oh and by the way, this chapter is set on a Monday. The previous chapter happened on a Friday, three days before.

* * *

Molly never came. Not that he expected her to, but it was strange to think that he'd be eating lunch alone for what could end up being the rest of his school life.

Sherlock glanced around the canteen. Surely she couldn't be that mad at him; she didn't even know exactly what had happened. Unless, of course, Irene had told her. Or if her deduction skills were better than he'd thought.

Molly was clearly avoiding him. She didn't answer her phone. She refused to even make eye contact with him when they bumped into each other in the corridors. And now, for the first time in months, she wasn't sitting at his table.

He didn't really know how to feel. He was sorry, of course. He didn't mean to hurt her. But although he was still angry at himself, and a little shaken up about what had happened with Irene, he'd almost managed to delete it from his memory. He was slightly annoyed as well, that Molly was ignoring him. And... maybe a little upset.

The past few nights before, he had practically cried himself to sleep, haunted by the memory of the shock and disappointment on Molly's face when she'd realised what was going on. All weekend, he'd been lying face-down on the couch, doing nothing. His brother had (incorrectly) deduced that he was being bullied. His parents hadn't taken notice of him.

And now, for the first time in months, he was eating alone.

He got out his books, trying to remember what he would have done during lunch break before he met Molly.

That was when he caught sight of her.

Molly Hooper, his ex-girlfriend was walking into the canteen, hand in hand, with another boy.

Another boy.

He was blonde, and seemed to remind Sherlock of somebody else. He was only about four or five centimetres taller than Molly. He'd never seen him before.

Sherlock watched as they sat down, two tables away from him. He tried not to stare at them; Molly kept glancing in his direction.

If she was upset at all, she definitely wasn't showing it. Maybe she had forgiven him.

But what was she doing with that boy?

As if on cue, the boy put his arm around Molly.

Sherlock felt a pang of jealousy.

There was something strange going on, he thought. It was almost... unnatural. As if it had been staged.

Or maybe Sherlock just couldn't accept that Molly was moving on, and was just making up any possible explanation.

But it did look a bit... staged. And besides, Molly had always been a bit awkward and shy, so how had she managed to get a new boyfriend within three days?

She had changed, Sherlock reminded himself. She wasn't the same girl she used to be.

By the time break ended, he was still trying to decide whether or not it was true.

It didn't really matter, he realised. If it was true, it meant she'd moved on. And if it wasn't, it meant that she hated him enough to want to get revenge.

Either way, she wasn't going to forgive him any time soon.

When he got home, Sherlock headed straight towards the couch in the living room and collapsed onto it

He didn't know what to do anymore.

One stupid mistake was all it took to ruin everything. He had let Irene get what she wanted, but he had lost the only good thing he had in his life.

Molly hated him.

He was half-hoping Mycroft would see him and ask him what was wrong, but he never came.

Nobody noticed when he didn't come down to dinner.

He was crying like a little boy. Only most little boys had friends, and a caring family. There was nobody left. Nobody that cared about him. All he had was himself. It had been enough for most of his life. He would get used to it again, eventually.

The worst thing was that he knew he deserved it. It was all coming back to him, now. How betrayed Molly must have felt.

He knew he should apologise. Even if things would never be the same again, he had to at least tell her he was sorry. Molly deserved an apology.

He just had to gather up the courage to say it to her face.

* * *

I think you can guess who Molly's new 'boyfriend' is.

Sorry if this chapter is a bit depressing... but he deserves it.

Unfortunately I don't know when I'll be able to update again, because we're moving house tomorrow.

And, as usual, thanks for reading.


	17. Chapter 17

Good news. I finally have unlimited Internet access until just over a week from now, so I'll be able to update a lot over the next week or so. My school starts on Wednesday but you never really do much in the first week so I'll still have a lot of time.

* * *

Molly and John walked down the road to the park. They weren't holding hands; there was no point if they were on their own.

It felt strange walking to the park with somebody else, after all those afternoons she'd spent there with Sherlock, even if John and her weren't a couple. But she wasn't going to stop going to the park just because it reminded her of him.

"Are you ok?" John asked.

He seemed to ask her that a lot, and she usually lied.

"I'm fine." she said, and smiled. She wasn't lying this time.

Slowly, step by step, she was getting over it.

Molly liked to be an optimist about things. She had told herself that if it hadn't happened, she would never have discovered what kind of person Sherlock really was, and she also wouldn't have been locked in the cupboard, meaning that she wouldn't have met John.

John was every bit as kind and polite as Sherlock had been to her when they were still together, if not more; he was definitely a lot less strange and awkward. And unlike some people, he had actually been there when she needed someone.

There was no denying that she was still upset. When you really love someone, it's always going to hurt when it's over. She had cried for almost a whole day and a half, at the thought of not being good enough for him.

But it was all starting to make more sense now. He never really cared. He knew that she trusted him and used that to his advantage. It was likely that he had cheated more than once, anyway. It was all a game to him. She was starting to realise how much him and Irene were alike.

He hadn't even had the decency to apologise yet.

Whether he was sorry or not, Molly wanted to show him that she was moving on. Forgetting him. And if it meant making him jealous, so be it.

It was John's idea, originally, to pretend they were dating.

But although she knew they were just friends, it still felt very... wrong, to be there, at the park, with someone else. A different boy.

Small talk. Smiling politely. It was all they ever did. Just casual conversations.

Maybe it was because John understood that she was still upset. Or maybe he wasn't the kind of person who opened up easily. He was what she considered 'her species'. Different to most people his age.

She knew it was mostly put of sympathy that he was being her friend, but it was nice to have someone to talk to. At least this way, she didn't feel so alone.

Molly jumped slightly when she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket.

It was the forty-second time in two days.

He just wouldn't stop.

"At least he's trying to get to you." John said, when he realised what was happening.

Molly didn't reply, half hoping he would take a hint and not talk about it, half hoping he wouldn't.

"Have you read any of them?" he asked.

"No." she said, "Don't want him to tell me anything that'll change my mind."

This wasn't exactly true. She had read the first twenty or so, until she realised that by listening to what he had to say, she might be convinced into thinking he was actually sorry.

If he was, he would have come to say it in person.

And yet, she couldn't quite bring herself to switch off her phone. Maybe she just liked to know that he was still trying. That he hadn't let go, yet.

"He says he can explain what happened." Molly admitted, contradicting what she had just said, "But I don't think there's anything to explain, really."

Her eyes were getting watery.

"Well, in his defence, he is a teenage boy. And he was alone in an enclosed space with Irene Adler, who's supposed to be the hottest girl in school. And I'll bet she wasn't wearing very much."

John put his hand on top of Molly's when he saw a year running down her face.

"But he's not an ordinary teenage boy."

Part of her wanted to believe that Irene had set them up to it, but even if it was true, he should have had the strength to say no.

She didn't know what to think any more.

Her phone buzzed again and it was all she could do to stop herself from bursting into tears.

"Molly, you have to forget about it." John said, "I might not know him personally, but you're going to have to move on at some point."

A misunderstanding, Sherlock had said in his text. There was nothing to misunderstand. He had cheated on her and broken her heart. And now, he wanted her back. But she wasn't going to accept an apology via text. And even if he did apologise in person, it was too late. What he had done was unforgivable.

Besides, he never showed up at her doorstep, that Friday afternoon, after the fight, like she had hoped, and half expected him to.

She was determined not to let her feelings show, not to Sherlock, not to Irene, not to anyone. She was moving on. It would take a while, but she would get there eventually.

* * *

Sorry if these past two chapters were a bit depressing, but I didn't want to rush it. Molly isn't going to forgive him just like that.

Thank you so much for reading this story so far. Even if you don't review, I don't really mind. It just means a lot when I see how many views this story has and how many of you have kept reading up till now.

I will probably be able to upload the next chapter tomorrow night, if not the day after that.


	18. Chapter 18

My school starts tomorrow... :'(

Oh well. Summer was starting to get boring anyway.

I've noticed that there are hardly any stories on who have Kate as a character, but there are practically no stories that DON'T have Sherlock as a character. But then I guess this show is called Sherlock, not Kate. And he is kind of the main character, whereas Kate only appears for a few seconds in one of the episodes.

Anyway... (by the way, I have noticed that I use '...' way too much and I'm trying not to do it anymore)

So this chapter is kind of a filler-ish (sorry) and has different parts to it- things I want to include in the story but aren't long enough to fill a whole chapter.

* * *

"Why aren't you eating?" Kate asked.

"I'm not hungry." Irene said, flatly.

"You didn't eat dinner last night. I know this because you were at my house. And I'm sure you haven't eaten breakfast either." Kate said, "And you love lasagne, so why aren't you eating?"

"I'm trying to lose some weight." Irene lied, even though she knew Kate wouldn't believe her.

She was the kind of girl who could eat what she wanted, when she wanted, but never seemed to put on weight.

"Irene, I know for a fact that you have an incredibly high self-esteem. And you're also smart enough to know that if you did need to lose weight, starving yourself isn't the right way to do it." Kate said.

Why couldn't Kate just leave her alone for once? Irene was perfectly fine, and her dietary habits certainly weren't any of Kate's business.

"This is about last Friday, isn't it?" Kate deduced.

"No it isn't." Irene lied.

"I know you're lying. You're always bad at lying when you're depressed."

"I'm not depressed!" Irene shouted, causing heads to turn in their direction, "I'm just bored."

"Bored?" Kate repeated, suspicious.

"It's over now." Irene explained, "My challenge. It's over now."

"But why would you be bored?"

Of course Kate wouldn't understand. She could never understand. Ordinary people were never bored; they just occupied themselves with meaningless things. Most of them would never really know what it was like to feel bored.

"It's what's kept me busy all these months." Irene said, "And now that I've won, well, I'll have to go back to messing around with ordinary people. Boring people."

"Or not." Kate suggested, "You could always go talk to him again."

"He's been avoiding me. He leaves whenever I enter the room. He hates me."

That wasn't the whole reason why, but Kate wouldn't understand anyway.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?" Kate asked.

Irene didn't reply.

She couldn't explain how she felt.

She didn't even know herself. All she knew was that she had never felt so bored, never so empty and hopeless.

* * *

Sent messages

From: Sherlock Holmes

To: Molly Hooper

Saturday 24th

15:38

I'm sorry.

15:39

I didn't mean to hurt you. I wasn't thinking straight. I'm sorry.

16:59

Do you hate me?

17:03

You probably do. I'm sorry.

23:44

I can't sleep.

Sunday 25th

02:13

I'm sorry.

08:07

Molly why aren't you replying?

12:32

I'm sorry.

13:46

Are you ok? Why aren't you answering your phone?

13:49

Are you still mad at me? It's ok if you are. Please reply. Just to let me know that you're ok.

16:44

I'm so sorry.

18:35

Molly it's not what it looks like. I can explain everything.

18:52

Please reply. I need to know that you're ok.

18:53

I can explain everything.

19:27

Molly I know you're reading this.

19:31

Molly please just reply.

19:39

I'm sorry! I can't tell you how sorry I am.

19:54

I keep thinking about it all and I am so sorry and I didn't mean it.

20:12

I'm just an idiot. Molly it wasn't my fault, I'm telling you.

20:15

Ok it was my fault. But I would never have done it if I had known what would happen.

20:30

I don't know why I did it. I wasn't thinking straight.

21:45

Molly wherever you are I just want you to know that I didn't mean it and I'm so sorry.

22:13

I suppose I'll see you in school anyway.

22:32

Molly please stop ignoring me.

22:41

I didn't want to hurt you. You're the only one in the world I care about.

22:56

I'm such an idiot.

23:47

If you're reading this, I want you to know that I'm sorry and I'll never forgive myself.

Monday 26th

01:13

Molly please reply. You don't even have to say anything just let me know that you're there and you're ok.

02:32

I didn't mean to make you cry.

03:02

I miss you.

07:27

Good morning.

07:48

On my way to school.

14:31

Very mature.

14:42

If you're doing it to hurt me, fine. I admit. It hurts.

15:01

Please stop this.

15:23

I'm sorry! I've said it a million times.

15:42

If you want a face-to-face apology, you can have one.

16:03

I'm sorry if I didn't come and see you at lunch but you looked a bit busy.

16:27

I'm so sorry if I made you cry.

16:30

Molly are you even reading these messages? Please, if you are, reply.

16:41

Fine then. I'm just going to tell you what happened.

16:43

I was locked in the cupboard by Kate and Irene was in there with me, wearing practically nothing. She's been stalking me for months and now she's final taken things to extreme. I knew she wouldn't give up until I gave her what she wanted so I went ahead and did it, hoping she'd be satisfied, and leave me alone for good.

16:50

It's all a game to her. What else was I supposed to do in that situation?

16:52

Molly I swear I wasn't thinking straight. She was messing with my mind. I swear I don't feel anything for her and I never have.

16:55

It didn't even feel good. The whole time I wasn't thinking straight. I wasn't thinking at all. I didn't realise what I'd done until after.

18:32

I'm sorry.

18:33

I'm going to stop texting you now.

18:44

I'm sorry.

If only she knew, Sherlock thought to himself as he scrolled through the text messages.

He switched off his phone and tucked it in his pocket, before taking a deep breath and walking up to Molly's locker. He stopped when he reached her and cleared his throat.

She knew he was there but she didn't turn to face him.

He cleared his throat again, feeling almost sick to his stomach.

"Molly," he began.

She turned around slightly, but still didn't meet his eyes. She had a cold, angry expression on her face.

"I'm-"

"Leave me alone." she snapped, before slamming her locker shut and walking away.

* * *

Thank you for reading. next chapter should be up by Thursday. :)


	19. Chapter 19

Omg thank you so much for reviewing I now have 50 reviews! :) :) :) it means so much to me!

I love writing this story so much. I'll be so bored when it's over...

So this chapter is split up into two sections, one from Sherlock's POV and one from Molly's. Enjoy! :D

* * *

Sherlock winced as another crumpled piece of paper hit him in the neck. He didn't turn around to see who it was; that would mean proving that it was bothering him- doing exactly what the culprit wanted.

He could always raise his hand and tell the teacher, but he'd never really been the tell-tale kind of guy.

Two more crumpled up pieces of paper came flying towards him, from two different angles, indicating that more than one of his classmates was in on it. And whoever was doing it was most likely using a straw (most likely taken from the canteen at lunch) judging by the angle, probably concealed by a schoolbook.

One of the scraps of paper landed between his collar and his neck, so he picked it up and unfolded it, but there was nothing written down on it.

Growing increasingly frustrated, Sherlock turned back to his work and tried to ignore it.

By the time the lesson was over, whoever 'it' was had thrown exactly fifty three crumpled up slips of paper at him, thirty nine of which had actually hit him.

The teacher dismissed the students, and Sherlock finally had en excuse to turn around and face the culprit, who saw him staring and made his way over to his desk, towering over him.

Sherlock looked up at the other boy, immediately recognising him as Robert, the goalkeeper on the school football team.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Robert just smirked.

Students were filing out of the classroom and the teacher was nowhere to be seen.

"Very funny, your little game." Sherlock commented, "Very mature. Wouldn't the school principal love to hear about this."

Robert's cheeky smile disappeared.

"Who says he'll believe you?"

"Who says he won't?" Sherlock said.

He held out a handful of the crumpled up paper balls.

"Don't worry. I'll find a way of proving it. But you wouldn't understand it anyway..."

Sherlock gathered up his books and stood up, but Robert aggressively pushed him back down onto his seat.

They were now the only ones the classroom.

"Leave me alone." Sherlock mumbled, as he tried (and failed) to get up for the second time.

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" Robert said.

Sherlock wanted to make a comment but he wasn't exactly in the best situation; Robert was a year older and almost a foot taller, not to mention that he was also an athlete.

Robert grabbed him by the collar, after making sure there was no one else in sight.

"Get off!" Sherlock snapped aggressively, which only resulted in Robert tightening his grip.

"Don't talk to me like-"

"Stop!" they were interrupted by a very familiar voice.

It was Molly.

Molly Hooper.

Robert let go of him and stepped away.

Molly made her way over to them and closed her fingers around Sherlock's wrist.

Robert looked slightly annoyed, but he wasn't about to fight a girl.

Molly didn't even need to say anything, just a disapproving glance was enough to get her message across.

She lead Sherlock out of the classroom but let go of his hand the second Robert was out of sight.

"Thank you."

She still wouldn't look him in the eye.

"It was nothing." Molly said.

"Molly, I'm sorry." Sherlock said, but she just shook her head dismissively.

She clearly hadn't forgiven him yet.

But she cared. She still cared, or she wouldn't have helped him out.

"Thanks." Sherlock said again.

He saw what could only have been a hint of a smile on her face.

Molly caught sight of John and walked off in his direction.

Sherlock sighed. One step closer. They had spoken, at least, even if only a few words.

* * *

Molly Hooper was crying. Again. And it wasn't because of the usual reason, but she couldn't exactly tell John that. She couldn't just tell him that after all those tears she shed over the incident on Friday, all those sleepless nights, she was starting to want Sherlock back.

She had even started to get over it and move on, but no. She had to ruin everything, breaking the promises she had made to herself not to talk to him ever again.

"What happened?" John asked, putting his arm around her, "What did he say?"

"It wasn't what he said." Molly mumbled.

"What did he do, then?"

"It's not anything he did, either."

John nodded, suddenly understanding why she was upset.

"Molly, you can't give in to him again." he said, "He doesn't deserve it."

Molly shook her head.

"I don't know. I don't know what I was thinking."

"He's probably not even sorry."

Or was he? She couldn't tell.

There wasn't much that she could tell at the moment.

As she cried into her fake-boyfriend's shoulder, she couldn't help but half-wish it was Sherlock.

In those past ten minutes she had felt just a touch of what they had once had. What was now gone.

And she wanted it back.

No. Just because she missed him, it didn't mean she was ready to forgive him for breaking her heart.

Or was she?

Molly was confused. There was a pounding in her head and there was nothing she wanted more than to go home and bury herself under the covers in bed. It was the only place she ever felt truly safe and happy.

School was over, luckily, so after hugging John goodbye, she made her way back home.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Sorry if it's a bit short but I'll post the next chapter tomorrow or the day after. Again, thank you so much for all the reviews! :)


	20. Chapter 20

yay! Chapter 20! Thanks to everyone for reviewing. anyway... Here it is.

* * *

What was she doing here? Molly didn't really know. The past few days she'd taken to walking right past Sherlock's house on her way home, even though it was almost a fifteen minute detour. Ever since the incident with Robert on the football team, she had been lost in thought, and always walked where her feet took her. And she always ended up at the same place. Usually, she would just glance at it from a distance. But today, she was standing on the doorstep, her fingers hovering over the doorbell.

She knew she had every reason to hate him, but she just couldn't bring herself to. She knew that he was the one who should be showing up at her doorstep, not the other way round. He was the one who should be sorry. But she felt almost... guilty, for trying to make him jealous and get revenge...

She couldn't decide whether she wanted him back but still hated him for what he had done, or if she didn't want him back but wanted to let him know that she had forgiven him.

A bit of both, really.

She didn't even know whether she wanted to tell him that she had forgiven him, or that she was sorry for not forgiving him.

She still wasn't sure if she had forgiven him.

But either way, she felt terrible. She didn't know why. All she knew was that she had to sort things out. Not just for him. For herself.

What did she even hate him for? If it was about the incident with Irene, well, he probably did have a reasonable explanation. If it was because he hasn't showed up at her doorstep to apologise, well, that was understandable. Sherlock wasn't very good at 'emotions'. And he had apologised... through text messages. He would have probably spoken to her at school as well if she hadn't set up the whole 'fake boyfriend' thing to get her revenge.

And now, she was even beginning to miss him. But she wouldn't tell him that.

Sherlock had long-since given up on trying to apologise to her- he had stopped texting and trying to call her weeks ago.

Molly made up her mind. She would apologise. For everything- ignoring him, trying to make him jealous. Maybe it would be too late. Maybe not. But either way, she had to at least try and sort things out.

Before she could change her mind again, she quickly rang the doorbell.

It was about five minutes before anyone came to get it, and it turned out to be Mycroft.

He didn't look very pleased to see her.

"Can I speak to Sherlock?" Molly asked.

"I'll go and get him." Mycroft said, "Would you like to come in?"

Molly shook her head.

"I'll wait out here."

Mycroft went back inside to get his younger brother as Molly waited patiently. It was another ten minutes before Sherlock came out to greet her.

He opened the door and faked a smile- Molly knew him well enough to recognise it as an attempt to be polite.

He didn't look to pleased to see her either.

"Hi." Molly said, awkwardly.

"Hello." Sherlock said.

Molly looked down at her feet.

It was all very awkward, and Sherlock was looking at her strangely, having given up on trying to be polite.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

Molly looked up at him, and then back down at the ground again.

She had already planned what she wanted to say, in her mind, but she had forgotten everything.

"I just wanted to tell you... that I'm sorry." Molly said, "For everything."

Sherlock looked at her for a while, before pulling her into a hug.

"Me too." he whispered.

"We need to talk." Molly said, "We need to sort things out."

"Not here, though."

"Should we meet up in school then?" Molly suggested, "I'll come and find you at lunch."

"Okay." Sherlock agreed, and took both her hands, "I'm sorry. I should have said this sooner. I'm so sorry."

"Me too."

Sherlock hesitated for a second.

"Wait, John's not actually your boyfriend, is he?"

Molly shook her head and smiled. "Good." Sherlock said, and kissed her for the first time in almost a month.

"I love you."

Those three words that Molly had been waiting for so long to hear.

* * *

yay! :)

It's not over, though.

unfortunately, I don't know when I'll be able to update again.

but I'll try to do it as soon as possible. :)


	21. Chapter 21

Sorry about the wait... I haven't really had Internet access since I uploaded last. But anyway, this chapter is slightly longer than usual.

* * *

John wasn't stupid. He certainly wasn't anywhere near as intelligent and observant as Molly's ex-boyfriend (she seemed to talk about him a lot) was, but he definitely wasn't stupid. And it annoyed him to think that Molly thought he was. And most of all, he was annoyed that she was lying to him. They were, after all, supposed to be friends.

He had known she was lying the second she had tried to make up an excuse for why she couldn't sit with him at lunch. He knew for a fact that Molly wasn't part of a chess club. And there was only reason why she'd lie about where she was.

John made his way down the corridor, looking around for her. He knew he had to do something about it, or she'd just end up getting hurt all over again. He couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming. He had. Sherlock Holmes clearly had that manipulative power over Molly, making her come crawling back to him. The guy hadn't even properly apologised to her, and now she was falling for him again. Could Molly really have forgotten all those sleepless nights and tears shed over him? She clearly wasn't thinking straight.

Maybe part of John was jealous of Sherlock. He was only Molly's fake boyfriend- and certainly didn't have any 'feelings' for her (or did he?) but he was envious of the way Sherlock could get away with being so horrible to her, but still manage to make her want him back. Whereas John, who actually cared about her, was only the shoulder to cry on, Molly's backup plan, simply a distraction, while Sherlock wasn't available. And of she and Sherlock got back together, what would happen to him? There was no denying that John had gotten quite attached to Molly- as a friend, and nothing else (or was she?) and he would miss having her undivided attention, the only boy in her life, whether it be her friend, boyfriend, fake-boyfriend, e.t.c.

No. He wasn't doing this for himself. He was doing this for Molly. That boy was messing with her head. She wasn't thinking clearly, because if she was, she'd realise that she deserved better. He definitely wasn't right for her. As Molly's friend, he would have to take matters into his own hands. Because he cared, and didn't want her to get hurt again.

Molly was nowhere to be seen, so John carried on wandering down corridors and staircases, until he bumped into exactly the person he wanted to could have recognised that dark, curly head of hair from miles away.

"You're Molly's friend, aren't you?" Sherlock said when he saw John.

"Boyfriend." John corrected.

"Pretend boyfriend." Sherlock added.

So he knew. John was slightly disappointed. There would be no point in carrying on if Sherlock knew. Not that he'd been enjoying it or anything...

John faked a smile, and then frowned when he realised he didn't have to be polite.

"And you're Molly's ex-boyfriend." John commented. Sherlock nodded. "And it's going to stay that way, isn't it?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, suspicious.

"I know she's planning on seeing you today." John said, "She's almost forgiven you now. But I also know that you're not sorry."

Sherlock was beginning to look confused. "How would you know-"

"Leave her alone. Molly is a good girl. She deserves a lot better. I might not know you very well, but you've hurt her. You've really hurt her. And it won't take much to break her again."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked at John. "You're jealous, aren't you?" he said, "That's why you don't want her to forgive me, isn't it?"

"I'm... not... I'm not jealous!" John stammered, trying hard not to blush, "I just want what's best for her."

"And what makes you think you know?" Sherlock asked, "You've known her for what, three weeks?"

"Long enough to know that you're not right for her. I care, about Molly. And I'm not going to let anyone hurt her again."

"I made a mistake, okay? The biggest mistake of my life. And I'm sorry, and she knows it."

"NO YOU'RE NOT!" John shouted, "Just leave Molly alone."

"You just don't want to accept it, do you?" Sherlock said, "And that's why you're lying to yourself. Telling yourself you know what's best for her. You don't want her to come crawling back to me because you want her all to yourself."

That was when John lost it. He wasn't even sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew, he was slamming his fist into Sherlock's jaw. Sherlock acted fast, though, grabbing John's arm and twisting it painfully behind his back, before pushing him to the ground.

* * *

Molly was angry. Very, very angry, and even that was an understatement. Why couldn't things just stay simple? Just when she had thought she'd sorted things out with Sherlock, of course John had to get in the way.

No. She shouldn't feel that way. He was only trying to help. But Molly was furious. John caught her eye as she pushed through the crowd of nervous, shocked students. At this point, Sherlock (whose nose was bleeding) was already on his way to the nurse, and John (who looked equally bruised and beaten up) was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. It was only a matter of minutes- if not less- before a teacher would come and sort it all out.

John got to his feet and started running (it didn't matter that he was breaking the school rules, he was going to be in serious trouble anyway) down the corridor, away from the crowd, Molly following behind him. Part of her was worried. Part of her was scared that both boys might end up getting expelled. But part of her wanted to strangle them both. John went into the nearest bathroom, and Molly followed him, even though it was the boys' bathrooms- she was too angry to care.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Molly shouted.

John looked both offended and shocked. "I was trying to protect you. And now, here I am, sore all over with a black eye, probably going to get expelled- or suspended at least- and almost definitely going to be grounded for six months when my parents find out. All this because I was trying to protect you. And now you're shouting at me!"

"Since when does punching Sherlock count as 'protecting me'?" Molly yelled.

"Molly, I know you lied to me. I know that he's managed to win you over again." John said, "I don't want you to get hurt again."

"So you decided to punch Sherlock?" "No." John said, calmly, leaning against the sink, "I decided to go and talk to him. But then he went and said something and I just- I don't know what happened."

"Sherlock isn't who you think he is. I think over-reacted a bit too much when we broke up."

"Well if you can justify him doing... what he did... with Irene, surely you can justify me accidentally getting into a fight trying to help you!"

"And how exactly does that count as trying to help me?"

"Molly, you're forgetting about how much he hurt you. You can't go crawling back to him. He isn't right for you."

"Well I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine now. I've gotten over it. And what makes you think you know what's right for me anyway? You barely know me. I love Sherlock. And now I know that Sherlock loves me. This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you where I was going. I knew you would react like this." Molly shouted.

"How do you think that makes me feel?" John asked, standing up again, "I helped you. I was there for you when you and Sherlock broke up. I helped you get through it. I even pretended to be your boyfriend for god's sake! Because that's what friends do. You were alone. And now you two are going to get back together and I'll go back to being a total stranger to you. I'm not stupid, Molly. I know what's going on. I'm not even going to pretend for a minute that you'll still talk to me when you're back with him."

"Since when is this all about you?" Molly snapped, "I wish you'd just leave me alone and mind your own business!"

"Fine then." John said, coldly, "I will. I was only trying to help you. But I see how it is. Just know that if he ends up breaking your heart again, I won't be there to help you. Not this time."

Molly instantly began to regret what she had said. "John, that's not what I-"

"Drop it, Molly." he said, and left the room.

Why couldn't they all just get along? Now that she had finally (well, almost) fixed things with Sherlock, she was going to have to fix things with John. Because he deserved an apology.

Why was everything so complicated?

Deep inside, she knew that she would have to choose between them, because John wouldn't want to be friends anymore if she was going out with Sherlock again and Sherlock surely wouldn't appreciate it if she was friends with the guy that had punched him. She couldn't keep them both. Molly sighed, and quickly left the bathroom before anybody could see her (she was in the boys', after all).

* * *

There. Finally able to upload this...Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing it means so much to me:):):)Adios! Again, not sure when I can update, but I'll try to do it ASAP.


	22. Chapter 22

Finally have a reliable wifi connection. Ish. Have to connect my iphone to the incredibly slow wifi hotspot on our Samsung galaxy pad whenever I want to use the Internet. But oh well.  
As usual, thank you so much for reviewing.  
Here it is :)

* * *

Sherlock smiled to himself. As if locking his bedroom would stop him from leaving the house.

He and John had both been suspended for two weeks. For most boys his age, staying at home doing nothing at all would have been considered a punishment, but not for Sherlock.  
It meant that he had time to think.

His parents had both shouted at him for at least half an hour, his father probably too drunk to even realise why he was shouting, probably just glad for an excuse to release some of his anger. His mother hadn't even tried to stop him when he did what he did to Sherlock. It was slightly ironic, though. Trying to teach your child not to get into fights by beating him up yourself.  
But by now, he was used to it.

Sherlock climbed through his bedroom window and lowered himself down onto the balcony outside his parents' bedroom, on the floor below. After picking the lock, he let himself inside the bedroom and down the corridor.

When he was sure there was nobody to be seen, he went down the stairs and out of the back door. He climbed over the metal gate in the back garden.

But when he jumped down on the other side, he found that he wasn't alone.

Mycroft was standing next to him, and had clearly been waiting for him.  
"And where do you think you're going?" he asked, casually.

"If you knew I'd try to escape anyway, why even bother?"

Mycroft shrugged.

"Please don't tell father." Sherlock said, looking up at his brother, who was still taller than him, even if only by a few centimetres.

"I'm not going to tell him." Mycroft said, "Well, I'm not going to tell him directly, but if he asks where you are, I'm not going to lie to him."

"Why?"

"Because then I'll just get in trouble." Mycroft explained, "You have two choices. You can either go back inside, and they won't find out, or you can leave. I won't tell on you, but if father finds out, then, you're going to have to face him when you get back."

"So you're not going to make me go back inside?" Sherlock asked.

"No. I don't really care what you do."

"So how come you were here, waiting for me?" Sherlock pointed out.  
Mycroft shrugged again and turned back towards the house.

"Thank you." Sherlock said, quietly.  
Mycroft didn't reply.

* * *

Sherlock was sitting cross-legged on the floor in Molly's bedroom, leaning against the edge of her bed. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and she was holding onto both his hands so tightly, as if he was about to slip away from her. He could feel her pulse, beating like a drum, slowly and steadily.  
Molly had been pleased to see him. And she also looked like she had been crying. A lot. Normally, Sherlock would have pointed it out, because that was what he did- noticed things. But he didn't.

They had barely spoken a word since he had arrived.  
Sometimes, words just weren't enough. It was amazing how a warm hug could do so much more than a well thought-out, encouraging speech.  
And it was also amazing, how at the same time, words could also be a million times more powerful than actions.  
It just depended on the situation, Sherlock supposed.

Besides, there was no point in him even trying to understand how emotions and feelings worked. They just did.  
And right now, all he could do was be as supportive and sympathetic as he could.

"I don't know what to do anymore." Molly whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"I can never do anything right." Molly said, "You're suspended. John hates me. My parents are mad at me and I don't even know why. I think they're convinced I'm turning into some sort of rebellious teenager or something."

"It's not your fault." Sherlock whispered, putting his arm around her shoulders and kissing her on the forehead (he had missed doing that, so much), "What happened the other day wasn't your fault."

"But I could have done something about it. I shouldn't have shouted at him. I can't stop thinking about it. I'll bet if I was Irene this wouldn't have happened." Molly said, "Irene always to get what she wants."

Sherlock sighed.  
"Don't tell me you're still jealous of that girl-"

"She always gets exactly what she wants." Molly repeated.

"Yeah, well, she wanted me-"

"And she got you." Molly said, coldly, pulling away from him.

Sherlock shook his head. Why couldn't he ever just get it right? He always said the wrong thing at the wrong time.

"Molly you know that's not what I mean." he said, taking her hand again, "It took her months, and she had to lock me in a cupboard to do it."

"So what exactly is your point?" Molly asked, meeting his eyes again.

"You didn't have to do that. You made me fall in love with you. And we both know that I don't love easily."  
Molly smiled and looked down at the ground.

"You forgave me." Sherlock said, "I'm sure John will forgive you as well."  
He reached out to touch her face, just above her cheek, where he knew she liked it.

"I love you." he whispered.  
It was funny how he had once struggled so much to tell her, but now it was so natural.

"I love you too."

Before he knew it, he was kissing her again, running his fingers through her hair.

It felt just as good as he had remembered, only it lasted longer; neither of them had any reason to pull away.

They probably could have- would have stayed like that forever, had they not heard the footsteps approaching Molly's bedroom.

It turned out to be Molly's mother, just checking to see if they were all right. Sherlock realised that it wouldn't be long before his parents noticed he was gone.

"I have to go." he said, "But I'll come back to tomorrow. When you come home from school."

Molly grabbed his hand, and once again, he could feel her pulse beating against his skin.

"Thank you." she whispered, "For everything."

He kissed her once more before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

As usual, thank you so much for reading!  
Okay, well, I don't really have anything else to write and I'm not just going to write this authors note for the sake of it.  
I'll try and post again by the day after tomorrow.  
:)


	23. Chapter 23

Hi. Again. :)

I was hoping to post this earlier on but I didn't et a chance. Oh well.

This chapter is kind of filler-ish, with different parts in it.

I kind of have a lack of inspiration at the moment, but I do have a plan for the ending.

* * *

Oh no, Molly thought to herself.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The person in front of her was supposed to slow down so that she could get a few metres ahead. But he wasn't, and they were now walking down the corridor side by side.

Molly had become an expert at walking around school on her own. It was easy enough, as long as you stayed at least five metres away from anyone in front of or behind you. And if she wanted to overtake someone, she simply had to speed up until she was far enough in front of them to continue walking at the same pace as them.

It was almost like an unwritten rule, for all students waking around school alone. Either you walk at a different pace, or you walk behind or in front of someone. Otherwise, it looks like you're walking together.

But this person obviously wasn't familiar with the 'rules'.

When Molly had tried to overtake him, he had sped up ever so slightly, and they were now walking side by side.

It put Molly in an awkward situation, because if she sped up anymore, it would look like she was purposely avoiding him (which was true- she avoided everyone- but making it obvious would just be rude). And she couldn't exactly slow down either because she was the one who had tried to overtake him in the first place. So instead, she turned left at the first possible corridor, going completely out of her way just to avoid an awkward moment.

Wasn't it complicated being a lonely girl...

Sherlock and John still had three school days off, which meant that until then, Molly would have to do what she had always done, before she'd met them.

Eating her lunch on the football pitch so that she wouldn't have to sit at a table alone. Sitting at the back of the classroom during every lesson. Wondering aimlessly around school during break trying to look like she was busy and generally avoiding any sort of contact with other people.

It was all so stupid. And she knew it. But at this point, it was too late to do anything about it. She wasn't the 'new girl' anymore. People had stopped trying to be friendly to her. Now all she was was the awkward, lonely loser. She had blown her chances of having any sort of social life. Except Sherlock and John.

But now she didn't even have John anymore, because he hated her. Chances were he hadn't even liked her in the first place. He just felt sorry for her. And now he was suspended because of her.

So, in reality, the only person she had was Sherlock.

* * *

Dinner was always awkward. The Holmes' always ate as a family- mostly because Sherlock's mother was somehow still convinced that they would 'bond' or something.

Sherlock's father was rarely ever home on time, so it was usually just the three of them. Mycroft would always try to fill the long, awkward silences by making polite, small talk. He was good at that- talking to people.

Understanding them. Empathising, even if it was he was only pretending. He knew what was polite and what was kind. Whereas Sherlock always struggled when it came to relationships and manners.

But Mycroft had always said that you didn't actually have to mean what you say, or care about anyone. You just have to pretend. Pretending is normal. Pretending is polite.

It was all pointless. Meaningless.

But then, Sherlock often pretended to care about what Molly cared about. That wasn't pointless, was it?

Maybe he did care, though. Because he cared about her, and if it meant something to her, it should mean something to him. So maybe he wasn't pretending.

It was all so confusing.

* * *

"You're hiding something." Kate stated.

Irene frowned. It was a fake frown, though, of course.

Sherlock Holmes was the expert at noticing things and seeing through people.

Irene was the expert at knowing what people like, and how to use that to get her way.

Kate was the expert at knowing when someone is lying or hiding something.

A few years with Irene, who lived in a world of games and lies, was enough for her to be able to tell the difference.

And now, Irene was definitely hiding something.

"No I'm not." Irene said, flatly.

Irene was a good liar. She always maintained eye contact, kept a neutral expression on her face and acted as natural as possible. But she always tried to hard, so when she was the most serious and calm, it probably meant that she was lying.

"Yes you are." Kate said, "And it's clearly something to do with you-know-who?"

"I told you, I'm done with him." Irene argued.

"Sure you are. Now, are you going to let me in on this one, this time?" Kate asked.

Irene pretended to look confused, but decided it was no use.

"He's back with the Molly girl, isn't he, though?" Kate pointed out.

"Apparently."

Kate rolled her eyes when she saw Irene's facial expression. So much for the notorious manipulator who never gets attached.

But then, although Kate was getting more and more used to it, she would never really understand people like Irene and how they worked.

"So, what's the plan?" Kate asked, "You must have thought of something."

"I'll tell you later." Irene whispered, with a cheeky smile.

* * *

Sorry if that was a bit short, and if not much happened. Next chapter will definitely be more eventful. I haven't really had much time to write this week. School is so... tiring...

Anyway... I think I'm coming to the end of this story now. Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this. :)

Next chapter will be up by the day after tomorrow (probably). :D


	24. Chapter 24

Sorry about the delay. Meant to post this yesterday.

This chapter is from John's POV. It's kind of short- sorry.

Like I said, I'm kind of stuck for ideas. But I do have a plan! :)

Enjoy!

* * *

Two more days.

Two more days and then he could forget any of this ever happened.

Two more days and he'd be back in school.

He should have been happy. He should have been grateful for a chance to start over. He should have been relieved that his parents were letting him off so easily.

But John wasn't happy or grateful or relieved.

Because he knew that he had done what he had done, and everyone in school knew about it. No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to un-do it. Not only did it scar his conscience, but also his reputation. Everyone- his teachers, classmates, parents of classmates- would always know him as the boy who got suspended.

And anyway, now that he wasn't talking to Molly anymore, he didn't have anything to live for anymore. Nothing to keep himself busy.

From what Molly had told him, Sherlock was more like him than he had thought.

John might not be a genius, but he did share that desperate need for a distraction. A purpose in life.

Something to keep his mind off the ugly truth: nothing ever happened to him.

But now he would be alone again. Lonely and bored.

This was why John found himself at the local park on Monday afternoon.

The people who usually hung around there weren't exactly the kind of people his parents would approve of, but frankly, he couldn't care less about 'avoiding the wrong crowd' or whatever.

These people had lives. They knew how to have fun.

John cautiously made his way over to the crowd of girls and boys his age- most of which didn't go to his school.

He had told his mother he was going to the supermarket.

It was a wonder he was even allowed out of the house, but he had managed to convince his parents that the fight wasn't his fault.

He didn't lie. Of course not. He wasn't a liar.

No, he had just bend the truth. Slightly.

It wasn't hard. John had never had a problem with talking to people. He just had always preferred to keep to himself. But he was tired of always being the good boy.

And if his reputation was 'ruined' anyway, did it really matter what he did anymore?

* * *

TWO DAYS LATER

* * *

"Welcome back."

The red-head girl was there again, standing in front of him.

She had been at the park, too, and he had felt like he recognised her from somewhere. He now knew it must have been from around school.

John smiled and faked a laugh.

"Hi." he said, "You didn't tell me you went to my school."

"You didn't ask."

He couldn't quite remember her name. He had never been good with names. But he wasn't going to let her know that he'd forgotten.

"Glad your 'sentence' is over?"

"Sort of." he said.

There was an awkward silence.

"Do you want to go get some lunch?" she asked when she realised he wasn't going to ask her.

"I'd like that."

For a minute he was worried that Molly might see him, but she was probably talking to Sherlock (it was his first day back as well, of corse) and they usually did that in privacy. And anyway, why should he care? He was a different person now. What did it matter, if Molly, the awkward loner, saw him with another girl?

The red-head girl was so much more fun to be around.

She wasn't shy, and she wasn't awkward. She was funny, outgoing and confident.

And she was pretty. Very pretty. So what if she flirted with practically every guy she bumped into? She knew how to have fun. She knew how to live.

Who needed Molly when they could have her?

It should have been perfect.

So why, then, did John feel a ball in his throat when he caught sight of Molly walking out of the library?

* * *

I wonder who the redhead girl is...

Lol. Irene has a plan.

Sorry if its short. I haven't had much time the past few days.

I was going to write more but I ran out of time so I figured that you'd probably rather have a short one now than wait for a longer one tomorrow.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. :)


	25. Chapter 25

_I'm so sorry about the length of the past few chapters and my lack of updating... to make up for it, I'm posting this one a day earlier than I planned. whoa my writing just turned italic what's going on..._

_Oh well_

_here it is_

* * *

Mycroft had made him promise that he'd be on his best behaviour at school. Because the last thing he needed was to get in trouble on his first day back at school.

Sherlock had no intention of breaking the school rules. On the contrary, he was being very good.

He wasn't talking over the teachers. He wasn't exactly participating in the class discussion, because he didn't feel the lesson needed or deserved his full attention. He was listening though. Sort of.

And he was completing all classwork to an excellent standard. Not to the best of his ability, though. It was still much better than anybody else's best, and it wasn't even his best. But he didn't think it was important or useful enough to put much thought into it.

After a few hours spent deep in thought- still managing to answer the teachers' questions when they called on him, though- he was beginning to wish he could have stayed at home instead.

It was all so boring. Useless and boring. And he only really had one thing to look forward to. Molly.

* * *

They met up, as planned, in the library, the minute lessons ended.

Once she was sure nobody else was in sight, Molly threw her arms around him.

He had known she'd make a big thing about their 'reunion'. Personally, he didn't really care. It wasn't like they hadn't seen each other since. And Sherlock wasn't exactly 'overjoyed' to be back in school. But Molly obviously cared, so he decided to play along.

"I've missed you." Molly said, loosening her grip, slightly, "You have no idea how lonely I've been."

Sherlock smiled. He wanted to say something but he couldn't think of the words, so decided to kiss her instead. He was never good with words. At least, this way, he wouldn't manage to say anything to upset her.

He was careful to position himself so that his back would be blocking the security camera in the corner (yes, they had security cameras in the reference book section of the library- as if somebody was going to break into the school to steal dictionaries and thesauruses, rather than the fancy new iPads in the ICT department down the corridor) because the school had a strict policy on 'physical contact'.

The last thing he needed was to be caught breaking even more rules.

They decided to leave the library, because it was so quiet that even the slightest whisper would be overheard by the students at the other side of the room.

The walked, in silence, down the corridor, until they were sure nobody could hear or see them.

It wasn't like they were talking about anything personal or secret, they just liked their privacy.

And now that using cupboards was no longer an option, they'd have to make do with deserted corridors instead.

Something caught Molly's attention. Sherlock followed her gaze.

"No." he stated, flatly.

"What?"

"I know what you're thinking. And the answer is no. I'm not going."

"Why not?" Molly asked.

They were standing in front of a notice board, looking at a poster advertising some sort of school dance.

This was exactly the kind of thing Sherlock hated the most.

"It's never like in the movies." he said, "If you think it's going to be some 'magical' night that you'll remember fondly the rest of your life, it won't be."

Molly looked at the ground, disappointed. Sherlock realised she had probably led him here and pretended to spot the poster so that be would ask her to it.

"It's all everyone's talking about." Molly said, "I just thought it might be fun."

"It won't be."

"I just want to be ordinary, for once."

"Don't worry, you are ordinary."

Molly knew he didn't mean that as a compliment.

"What I mean is... just like the other girls. Everyone else is going. I've wanted to go to this kind of thing ever since I started secondary school, but I didn't want to because I didn't have a boyfriend." Molly complained, "But now I do."

She looked up at him hopefully. He turned away, determined not to give in.

"No." Sherlock repeated, "You can go, if you want, but I won't come with you."

"And why not?"

"Molly, why do you even want to go? That's what girls like Ire-" Sherlock stopped himself before he could say that name. He knew that Irene was still a sore topic for Molly. So was John. He always avoided talking about them with her, "I'm not going."

"Please..."

"Why can't we just go out to dinner instead or something..."

"It won't be the same."

"No." Sherlock said, for the third time, glancing over at the poster again, "Just no."

"We never do anything I want." Molly mumbled.

"What?"

"You always come over whenever you feel like it. Whenever's convenient for you. You don't even let me know in advance, either. Just show up. We do what you want to do, when you want to do it. When you feel like leaving, you leave. You only answer the phone when you feel like it. But when I ignore a text, you throw a huge fuss. I'm always there when you want me. But you never want to step out of your comfort zone to please me."

Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed.

What she had said was exaggerated, of course, but mostly true.

And it also meant that Molly had won the argument. He was going to have to say yes.

"Fine." he sighed.

Molly's frown instantly disappeared and she hugged him again.

"Half past six on Friday." she told him.

"I'll pick you up." Sherlock said, avoiding her gaze.

Molly smiled again.

Great. Just what had she talked him into?

* * *

Again, it's short. I'm just not really a long-chapter kind of person.

As usual, thank you for reviewing. And thank you so much to everyone who had kept reading this far... it means the world to me.

Adios. For now.

:)


	26. Chapter 26

Omg I am so sorry. I was planning to have this chapter up by Thursday but I've been so distracted...

It's been like six whole days. I'm so sorry! :'(

* * *

It was funny how most girls would do anything to get a boy to ask them to the school dance everyone seemed to be talking about.

It was also funny how since the minute the posters were up, Irene had been asked by no less than twelve different boys.

It was getting tiring.

She was running out of new and original ways to reject them. She had even said yes to one or two of them- just for fun.

Irene was the 'it' girl. The one all the boys were fighting over, trying to impress, thanks to the reputation she'd worked so hard to build up for herself.

There was only one person she had any interest in going with, however, but he was (unfortunately) unavailable.

But this wasn't about her. She'd probably end up finding a date at the last minute. It didn't matter.

What did matter, though, was the plan. And getting all the little pieces of the puzzle in place, so that she could mess it all up.

It was what she was best at. It was what she had always done. And it was what she needed to do.

* * *

"Why would you want to do that?"

They just didn't get it. They just didn't.

"Because everyone else is."

"Doesn't mean you have to..."

Molly's parents weren't exactly strict. She had a reasonable amount of independence and freedom.

They just... didn't understand. They just didn't seem to realise that their little girl wasn't a little girl anymore.

"Molly, you're not like all the other girls."

She knew. She knew it all too well. And she hated it.

"Mum, I've already made plans." Molly argued.

"Plans? You've got a date?"

"No!"

She hadn't told her parents about Sherlock. As far as they were concerned, the two of them were friends. Very close friends.

Because Molly's parents just didn't get it. Didn't understand what it was like being a teenage girl. After all, the '80s were years and years ago...

"No." Molly lied, trying to calm herself down, "I don't have a boyfriend. But some of the girls in my biology class... well, we arranged to meet up there. I just thought it might be fun. Make some friends."

It worked. Of course it worked. Even if they didn't understand her, they still wanted the best for their little girl. And the thought of her having social life, having actual friends (other than that strange curly-haired boy who came round a lot) convinced them to agree.

"But what has this got to do with taking you to the mall tomorrow?" Molly's mother enquired.

"I need something to wear."

"You've got that nice purple skirt I bought you the other day. You've never worn that one before."

Maybe there was a reason for that.

Molly shook her head.

"Or the lovely yellow dress you wore to your grandmother's house last summer."

"Mum, I can't wear that in public!"

"There's also the white one with the flowers on it..."

"It's stained."

"I could bleach it for you..."

"Mum!" Molly snapped, "I'm fifteen years old. This is a big event. I want something nice to wear."

Then came the lecture on 'changing who you are to impress others'. Molly had expected that.

But in the end, her mother gave in.

Success. Again.

Things were slowly falling into place.

* * *

Again, I'm so sorry. It's really short. I know. And I'm sorry. But I didn't want to wait another day before posting. I will try to update faster next time, however. I'm just... missing the freedom of summer holidays.

thank you all for reviewing. And please don't hate me for being so lazy these past few days... I know I deserve it... But I will improve. I'm going to start writing the next one tonight. I will make up for it. I will.

I hate Sunday afternoons.


	27. Chapter 27

Wow. I am so so so sorry. And now I actually have something to be about about. It's been like 3 weeks. When I first started this I was updating like every day... I miss summer. I've just had a lot to deal with these past few days. Things that are a lot more important than swirling stories about non-existent TV show characters, such as controlled assessments and other incredibly stressful things. Anyone in KS4 would understand...

* * *

The minute she arrived, she was already regretting having come. It was exactly the kind of situation she always liked to avoid: social interaction. Everyone was being friendly and talkative. Being social.

The music was loud, the lights were dim and it was crowded. It was overwhelming, especially for a small girl with an even smaller level of self-confidence.

Everyone was smiling and laughing, except for Molly, who chose the table the furthest away from the general crowd and sat down, on her own.

Where was Sherlock?

He obviously hadn't forgotten. He had the memory of an elephant (provided it was something he wanted her to remember, of course). And he wouldn't just stand her up. That left only one option. She knew exactly what he was doing.

He was going to make her wait, all by herself, feeling like an outcast. He would show up, half an hour late, by which point Molly would have had enough of this whole 'social event' concept, and they could go home. And she would never drag him along to something like this again.

No. She wouldn't let him win. She was going to enjoy herself. By the time he arrived, she'd be smiling and laughing just like everyone else and he'd see that she was more than just the easily-manipulated, socially awkward, shy girl he thought he knew.

Now, all she had to do was pass the time without making a fool of herself in front of everyone else.

There were a few things she could do.

Get a drink? No. It was too crowded over there. Get food? No. It would mean walking past the group of sixth-form boys and she was still a little self-conscious in her party dress. Socialise? No. Of course not.

Instead, she got a book out and sat in silence, waiting for Sherlock.

What a loner she must look like, sitting at the side of the room, on her own, reading a book.

But she had to stay calm and positive. She wouldn't let him win again.

* * *

"Nice dress."

"... thanks...?" Molly attempted.

She certainly wasn't used to being complimented by Irene, who rarely even noticed her. And it sounded too serious to be sarcasm.

"It's Marks and Spencer's, isn't it?"

And there came the insult.

Molly looked down at the table.

Irene always had to make those comments that made everything embarrassing and awkward.

She took pleasure out of unnerving people.

"What are you doing here all alone?" she asked.

"I'm waiting for someone."

"Oh really?"

Molly was deliberately avoiding eye contact, trying to show no emotion.

"You know exactly who I'm waiting for." she snapped, "Now can you please leave me alone?"

But instead of leaving, Irene put her plastic cup down on the table and sat down. Why? Because she was Irene and she didn't like to be bossed around.

"What do you want?" Molly demanded.

"I'm just keeping you company." she said, matter-of-factly, "Making you look less like a loner."

"I have a date."

"Then where is he?"

"Why do you even care?"

"Molly, you know he's not actually coming." Irene said, picking up her drink and taking a sip.

Maybe if Molly stopped talking she'd go away.

The problem with Irene was that you could never tell what she was planning. You never knew what you should say or do next because you could ever know if you were doing what she wanted you to do, or what you should really be doing.

"If I were you I'd just go home."

Now what Molly knew for certain was that she couldn't leave, or when Sherlock showed up, he'd be all alone and who knew what Irene might try to do this time.

Another thing she knew for certain was that she hadn't given up yet. So all Molly could do for now was sit tight and wait.

* * *

Again, I'm so so so sorry for making you wait. But if you where worried I had abandoned this story, don't worry. I won't.


End file.
